


Okay, So Maybe Dean Winchester is a LITTLE Afraid of Ghosts.

by Desirae



Series: Ghosts [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, BAMF Castiel (Supernatural), Boys In Love, Dean Winchester Whump, Established Castiel/Dean Winchester, Fluff, Ghost Hunting, Happy Ending, Humor, M/M, Medium Castiel (Supernatural), NC17, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Paranormal, Paranormal Romance, Photographer Dean Winchester, Possession, Protective Dean Winchester, Psychological Horror, Recreational Drug Use, Wedding Fluff, all that comes with the gay sex my friends, ghost story
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-02
Updated: 2020-12-09
Packaged: 2021-03-03 00:28:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 23,559
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24495721
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Desirae/pseuds/Desirae
Summary: Dean, Castiel, and the rest of South Shore Paranormal are back, investigating the notorious Lucifer Morningstar Murder House.What happens when it'sDeanwho falls pray to the evilness of the Gothic manor? Can Castiel crossover the lingering spirits and save his fiance?
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester
Series: Ghosts [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2064843
Comments: 169
Kudos: 187





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hi everyone. The boys are back, and I hope you enjoy their new paranormal adventure! This fic will be posting bi-weekly:)
> 
> Thanks to my teapot/parabatai Bek💚💙 for test driving this fic, as per usual!
> 
> Comments&Kudos appreciated, and I hope you enjoy.  
> 

“Dude, what the hell is wrong with those Gummi Bears?” Dean asked, mouth dry as cotton, and he reached for the water bottle in the console of the SSP van and swished it around his mouth before swallowing. “They’re like, stale and perfumey.”

“What? Why? Did you eat one? Without asking?” Castiel was looking at him with undisguised irritation, and Dean was a little taken back.

“What the hell, dude, it’s just a few gummi bears.” Dean shot his fiance his best _what the fuck_ face, and Castiel rolled his eyes.

“No, Dean, it’s an edible.”

“Duh, Cas. It’s candy,” Dean said. He found the half-empty bag in the pocket of the hoodie he may or may not have stolen from Cas. “I know it’s edible.”

Castiel merely gaped at him. “Are you serious right now?” he asked, and Dean watched in fascination as Castiel yanked on his own hair in frustration, the dark strands standing in soft tufts. “Not _it’s_ edible. _An_ edible. It’s made with Marijuana, Dean! How many did you eat?”

Dean couldn’t help the low rumble of laughter if he tried. It bubbled out of him, leaving him breathless as he tried to answer. “Like- like four? Five, maybe?” Dean wished he could stop laughing, especially since Cas was wearing his dom face, but in an entirely non-fun way. 

“Great,” Castiel muttered. “At twenty milligrams a pop. If you didn’t like them, why the hell did you keep eating them?”

Dean shrugged. “I don’t know, I was bored,” Dean had passed the reigns of Tech Manager to Charlie soon after the Howland case. That case had forever changed his views on the paranormal after seeing the man he loved possessed before his eyes. Dean now acted as Cas’ anchor during investigations. He was with him from start to finish of the investigation, every step of the way. If there was ever a change in personality or if Castiel felt unsafe or off, Dean was there to ground him. Letting something like that happen to his fiance again was never going to be an option. It caused some spats; their investigation at Pennhurst, for one, had tested each other’s patience. The case had been the catalyst of their first real fight since getting engaged last summer, and despite working things out and accepting each other’s point of view, they still argued.

Castiel didn’t like feeling baby-sat, and Dean’s overprotectiveness over the last two years had earned him a night on the couch more than once. Although Castiel always wound up dragging Dean back to bed in the early hours of the morning, finding it hard to sleep without his fiance by his side. After living together for more than a year and a half now, even their arguments had a routine.

“Dean? You’re spacing out on me,” Castiel tilted his head, peering at him with his blue eyes narrowed. Castiel _hmphed_ into Dean’s mouth when he couldn’t stop himself from pressing his mouth to Castiel’s, pink lips softer than their chapped appearance would lead you to believe. Dean drew back, and Castiel observed him with an amused expression

“I love you,” Dean whispered between the scant space between their lips. Castiel huffed a soft laugh.

“You're high,” Cas said, and Dean snickered a little.

“Doesn’t make it less true, sunshine,” This time when Castiel rolled his eyes, it was with fondness.

“I love you, too, Dean,” Castiel said with a small huff of laughter. “ You're lucky we don’t investigate until after dark,” Castiel said with an arched brow and reaching into the take-out bag and handing Dean a container of chicken and shrimp Lo Mein and a plastic fork.

It was true. There was always a few hours break after set-up, which Castiel usually took to eat dinner with Dean, then center himself by going for a walk or smoking a joint. After would usually find Castiel reclining with Dean in a quiet space, more often than not, in the back of the Impala, while Dean massaged Castiel’s head.

Dean didn’t eat right away; instead, he observed as Castiel opened his own container of crab rangoon and bit into the plump, fried wonton. A dollop of the cream cheese and crab filling smudged his bottom lip, and Castiel’s tongue darted out to sweep it away. He raised a dark brow, impossibly blue eyes asking without words why Dean was staring. Honestly, Castiel should know by now. 

“You’re so beautiful, don’t be mad at me,” Dean pouted, finding it unfair that Castiel was sitting so far away from him just because he _accidentally_ ate his stash.

“I’m not sitting far away from you,” Castiel said, amusement lacing his voice, and Dean wondered if he had spoken out loud or if Cas was reading his mind. Or maybe, Dean was just really fucking high. Castiel swiveled himself to face Dean. He was sitting next to him on one of the built-in seats in the back of the van. “I just want you to eat. That stuff is going to hit you hard. You’re supposed to have one maybe two, at most. You know how you get when you have too much,” Castiel said before swapping containers with Dean.

Oh, he knew. Paranoid as fuck. Dean only smoked once in a while with Castiel, and always the old fashioned way. He didn’t like bringing his food into it.

“Why, you think I’ll still be fucked up by the time we investigate?” Dean looked at the clock. It was just after six. He and Cas had arrived separately, his fiance having clients booked all day for private readings. Dean had driven in the van with Sam and Gabriel, and Castiel had met them with the Impala. He did the walkthrough with Sam and Gabe and Charlie, in case the latter wanted any input on camera placements but mainly so he had information on what Castiel was getting into. Cas always went into a case blind, so as not to be influenced with second-hand information. Castiel liked to get his intel directly from the spirits.

Castiel shook his head as he took a swig of water from a Poland Springs bottle “You’ll be fine. Lights out isn’t until after ten.” That was about four hours from now, Dean reminded himself. Plenty of time to come down. “Did Sam or Gabriel talk to you about the next case?” something in Castiel’s tone told Dean to be wary.

“No,” he said, suspiciously, as he chewed on a rangoon. “Why do I have a feeling I’m not going to like this?”

Castiel took the take-out container out of Dean’s hands and placed it with the other on the console, obscuring Dean’s view of Charlie and Kevin setting up the cameras and laser grids throughout the small two-bedroom ranch. Dean had been able to tell just from the walkthrough that the house was going to be high in EMF; the number of electronics and appliances alone, not to mention being right near a utility pole, was going to make it a challenging case.

“They’re pretty much done with set up, come lay down with me,” Castiel said, standing and holding out his hand. Now Dean was _sure_ he wasn’t going to like whatever this was that Cas wanted to talk about. He allowed Castiel to lead him out of the van and down the driveway to the Impala. Castiel opened the back seat and slid in, back to the door, one leg stretched on the seat, the other on the floor. Dean climbed in after, shutting the door behind himself and cranking down the window, letting the warm spring breeze filter through the window. Castiel opened his arms, and Dean settled against him, back to chest. Cas wrapped his arms around Dean, lacing their hands together across his stomach. He felt relaxed and warm, and he imagined it was why his fiance had decided now was a time to tell him what Dean expected to be, some unpleasant news.

“We’ve been invited to investigate at the Lucifer Morningstar Murder House,” Castiel murmured, his stubbled cheek brushing against Dean’s own five o’clock shadow, creating a lovely rasp that almost had Dean missing his words.

“What? No way. No way, Cas!” Dean started, stomach-lurching at the very thought. Everyone in the paranormal community knew about the Morningstar murders. The house was a massive gothic style home set on its own island in Willow Lake, Maine. Morningstar Manor, it was called in its splendor in the early eighteen hundreds. Despite its gruesome history, the large home was currently run as a bed and breakfast. Tales of terror-filled nights from guests over the years had made every investigating team worth their salt vie for a chance to get in there and investigate the notorious location. Unfortunately, the current owners who had bought the property from the last remaining Morningstar ancestor always said no to allowing a team full access to the inn. 

It hadn’t stopped the stories from the guests, however.

“Dean, we can’t pass up an opportunity like this. Think what it means to Sam and Gabriel,” Castiel began, and Dean snorted, not on board with this in the slightest.

“Not really caring about that right now, Cas. I’m more worried about having you served up as a tasty dessert for the devil and all of his victims,” Dean bit out harshly. Dean was pissed that Sam and Gabriel didn’t seem to think that Cas’ well being was something to consider, and even more irritated at the realization that it wasn’t going to matter what arguments he threw at Castiel; his fiance had already made up his mind. It was in the soothing way he held Dean, in the way he squeezed their hands together and peppered kisses along Dean’s hairline. This was just Castiel giving Dean the courtesy of informing him.

“Seven people, Dean. He murdered seven people, three of them children. How can I pass up the opportunity to help them crossover?”

Dean sighed, pulling one hand away to scrub over his face. “Why are they allowing people to investigate now?”

“Not _people_ ,” Castiel stressed, ”Just SSP. The new owner says they have been doing some light renovations, and it’s gotten so bad they can’t keep a crew on the premises to finish the work. They told Gabe and Sam that they wanted a group that was trustworthy and respected in the community,” Dean felt Castiel shrug behind him. “That’s us.”

Dean allowed his head to drop back on Castiel’s shoulder, turning to nuzzle into the juncture of Cas’ neck and shoulder. Dean took a deep breath, attempting to ground himself in Castiel’s citrusy-scent.

“Cas, I’m not happy about this. Not even a little bit, and I can’t promise we’re not gonna fight over it,” Dean knew his words weren’t very comforting, but they were honest. He knew Castiel would appreciate him being upfront about it instead of being moody and passive-aggressive. “In fact, I can pretty much guarantee that we will.”

“I know Dean, I understand.”

“Yeah, well, understand that I’ll be sticking to you like glue, and if I get to be too smothering, it’s your own damn fault for making us do this,” Dean turned his cheek and nosed at Castiel’s jaw. “When?”

“The end of May. The owners want to try and have the activity under control before the busy summer season. Our team will have the whole place to ourselves,” Castiel answered, brushing a soft kiss against Dean’s temple. “We’ll be sleeping there, so we can essentially investigate twenty-four hours.”

Sleeping in the haunted rooms of a murder house. Fan- _fucking_ -tastic.

The end of May gave Dean a month. It gave him a month to either talk Castiel out of it or research until he knew the case backward and forwards. Seeing as how he could never talk Cas out of doing anything, Dean foresaw a lot of reading in his future.

  
  
  



	2. Chapter 2

"So," Lily said, as she relaxed in the chaise lounge next to Castiel's on the beach, tipping her sunhat back to see him. "Is Dean still being mulish about the whole investigation thing?" Cas' best friend, Lily Sunder, observed him as she drank from her water bottle. 

It was a beautiful spring day, and Castiel dug his bare toes into the sand as he reclined in his own chair, sipping a cold glass of iced tea. The water was so blue that it would be hard to discern between the sky and the sea if not for the sunlight making the ripples on the water sparkle. It was not hot enough for swimming, but it was prime weather for soaking up some vitamin D.

Lily, however, was slathered in sunscreen. As much as she enjoyed the warmth of the rays on her skin, the redhead's fair complexion didn't take much to burn, much like his Dean.

"I caught him reciting exorcisms to the cats yesterday," Castiel said dryly, mouth ticking up in a half-smile when Lily snorted inelegantly.

"He's freaked out, Cas. Can you blame him?" Lily asked as she relit the joint they were sharing. Cas stretched out his hand and made a grabby motion with his fingers. He drew in the smoke, holding for a few beats before exhaling, voice rough when he spoke.

"I don't blame him. How can I blame him when it's only because he loves me? I just wish what I do didn't bring him so much anxiety." Castiel accepted, even welcomed his gift of communing with the dead, but the toll it took on him was almost as hard on Dean as it was Castiel. He often wondered if Dean realized he was a bit of an empath. 

It wasn't as though Castiel went on every case. He'd never be home if he did, and that wasn't how Cas wanted to live; but after the Howland case, every investigation that came up was under Dean's scrutiny. It was a bone of contention between them for sure, and Castiel allowed it until he didn't, which had led to some heated arguments. Cas' refusal to live in fear warred with Dean's need to protect-which was simultaneously endearing and frustrating as fuck. Castiel didn't think Dean let go of his hand or lost point of contact with him once when they were at Pennhurst Asylum, and every case after, that even hinted at severe trauma. Cas knew it wasn't something he could understand. As scary as being possessed by Hannah's spirit had been, Castiel didn't suffer the agony of having to watch it happen; he didn't have to see the person he loved turn into someone else.

Since then, Castiel had worked incredibly hard on his meditation and his control. He used his client readings as practice, letting the spirits talk through him, with positive results. Dean knew all of this, but it still didn't alleviate his fear.

"Such is life, Cas. When you love someone, you worry. And you don't exactly have a normal job."

"Well," Castiel said, squinting up at the sun as he inhaled again, voice tight with smoke when he continued, "he feels better now that I agreed not to sleep there. Dean insisted that we stay at a nearby hotel. Even if we're investigating until 2 am. "

"You caved?"

"I caved. It's the least I could do for his peace of mind. It's not as though I usually stay for the whole thing anyway. They do their walkthrough, I come in and do mine; see if there is actually anything I can help with," Castiel took another hit before passing the joint off to Lily. 

"A lot of times, it's just residual. Nothing I can do about that, it's just energy. Those nights are the easiest because Dean and I can leave fairly quickly," Castiel said, reaching down to pet Aslan's fur when he felt his bushy Norweigan forest cat brush his arm with her fluffy gray tail.

Things fell into a companionable silence between them as the waves crashed on the sand, and Castiel let his thoughts drift towards the new case. Usually, Castiel wouldn't have any prior knowledge of a location, but with cases like The Morningstar Murder House, it was hard not to hear at least some of the rumors. It was like the Lizzie Borden House or the Winchester Mystery House, everyone has heard of them.

Castiel knew that in the 1940s, there had been seven murders in the house, and eight total deaths. He also knew that the details had always been a bit of a mystery as to what exactly happened. The bodies hadn't been discovered for a few days after their deaths. The property has passed hands multiple times since then, the latest owners going the B&B route, opening up the manor to tourists from June through October.

Castiel would be lying if he said he wasn't nervous, which was also another reason why he had given in so quickly to Dean's plea that they sleep elsewhere. With no clear story on what happened to the victims in the house, Castiel had no idea what he was walking into.

"When's Dean supposed to get home?" 

Lily's voice startled Cas out of his thoughts, and he shifted to take his phone out of the pocket of his shorts. It was nearing four pm. "Soon, I should think. His last appointment was at two." 

It was graduation season, one of his photographer fiance's busiest times of the year, especially when you factored in how closely it ran into the wedding season. Castiel loved it when June came along because it meant he got to see an excessive amount of Dean in a tux. Dean hated it, feeling much more comfortable in his standard attire of denim and flannel, but Castiel liked to tease that it was good practice for their own wedding. Castiel looked down at his engagement ring, smiling at the simple wide tungsten ring that was mirrored on Dean's hand as well.

It had been on this very beach last year that he had proposed to the love of his life, under bright stars, to the music of lazy waves. Castiel had dropped to one knee on their shared blanket on the sand and asked Dean to be his, forever.

To his credit, Castiel didn't even jump when he felt lips press to the top of his head, though Lily gave a startled yelp. Castiel tipped his head back and smiled sappily when he found Dean looming over him. Dean straightened, and walked around Cas' chair in bare feet with their adopted stray Salty, curled in his arms and purring loudly. They had come a long way with the bristly black cat, who had been weak and malnourished when she first started hanging around Cas' beachside home. The days of hissing and scratching at Dean were long gone, as the feline now had Castiel's fiance entirely wrapped around her paw. 

"How's it going, Lily?" Dean asked, with a smile, squatting down and automatically maneuvering himself between Cas' legs as he shifted back on the chaise to allow room for Dean and the cat.

"I'm good, thanks. You want some of this?" The tip of the joint burned cherry red, as Lily offered it to Dean, but he only shook his head, settling back against Castiel's chest. Salty stayed curled in his lap, enjoying being petted.

"No, thanks. I can't smoke that stuff all the time like you and Cas do. Makes me paranoid and turns me into a bottomless pit," Dean said with a laugh, and Castiel couldn't help teasingly running his fingers down Dean's sides before settling over his flat tummy, with a hint of softness. Cas adored sucking marks into the skin, leaving blush-colored bruises.

"I already have a dad bod, don't need to make it worse, especially if I'm gonna keep this guy," Dean said self-deprecatingly, and Castiel frowned at that, but before he could protest Lily was already speaking.

"With the amount of time that he spends time staring at you like a lovesick teenager, I'm pretty sure Cas is fine with you just the way you are," she said with a smirk and rose from her chair. "I'm going to take a walk before I head out. Have a safe trip, guys, and I promise to check on the cats while you're gone."

"Shhh!" Dean stage whispered, pretending to cover Salty's ears. "She'll hear you."

Salty flicked her tail, unimpressed with having her ears blocked and abruptly leapt from Dean's lap.

"Thanks a lot, Lily," Dean mock-teased, earning himself a light smack on the shoulder from the redhead, while Cas was awarded a kiss on the cheek.

"Be safe," she warned, and Cas nearly rolled his eyes when he saw her catch Dean's gaze, and his fiance nodded back at her solemnly.

After Lily wandered off, they stayed outside for a little while longer, Dean relaxed against him, head tilted back so he could nuzzle at Cas' neck.

"I love your body," Castiel felt the need to say, as though their extremely active sex life wasn't a testament to that, and Dean chuckled softly. Castiel knew that was all he would get, as compliments always flustered his fiance.

"Smell good," Dean murmured against Cas' Adam's apple, the warmth of his breath causing gooseflesh to break over Castiel's skin, and he shivered.

"You always say that," Cas' voice was rough, already affected by having Dean pressed back against him, a warm, heavy, weight caught between his thighs. Castiel relished having Dean's hard, strong body, such a perfect match for his own, surrender to him. Just as much as Castiel loved surrendering to Dean.

"Cuz it's always true, sunshine," Dean said, angling his head up while simultaneously reaching up, fingers tangling in Castiel's hair, tugging his head down to join their lips in a soft and languid kiss. "Wanna move this party indoors?" Dean's eyes held mischief as he pulled back just far enough to meet Cas' gaze. 

Castiel smiled brightly. "You make me very happy," he said, not missing the flush of pleasure blooming on Dean's cheek before he kissed him again. 

For a moment, they remained as they were, staring at each other softly in the late afternoon sunshine. Castiel's stomach growled, breaking the tender moment, but he couldn't feel too sorry for it when Dean's musical laughter was the result.

"Come on," Dean said as he hefted himself up with a groan, turning to extend a hand to Castiel. "I'll feed ya first."

* * *

Castiel was surprised to smell something delicious already in the oven when they made their way into the house.

"How long have you been home?" Castiel eyed Dean curiously who shrugged, before opening the fridge to pull out a bud light for each of them. "Not long. It's just the leftovers from awkward dinner night." Dean said, handing him a bottle, and Castiel cringed at the memory.

Awkward dinner night was two days ago, when Sam and Lily, and Lily's _date_ came for dinner on Tuesday. Sam and Lily had tried their hand at dating for a while, but it turned out that Lily had a hard time with Sam's job. Sam lived and breathed his work, and the constant day to day dealing with the paranormal made it hard for Lily to not sink back into depression about her daughter. She had finally found peace, and although she respected what Sam did, and Cas, she didn't want to live with it twenty-four seven.

Sam was understandably disappointed but held no grudge. Castiel had worried what it meant for all of their friendships. Castiel didn't blame either of them but didn't want Dean to think he was choosing Lily over Sam by being there for her. Dean had apparently been feeling the same kind of way because they had both gone out of their way to reach out; Dean to Lily, Cas to Sam, to reiterate that they wouldn't be taking sides. Dean had gone as far as to invite Lily and her new boyfriend to dinner, unbeknownst that Cas had extended the same invitation to Sam. When Dean had begun the preparations for lasagna that night, Castiel just assumed he had spoken to his brother.

It was only when Dean asked Castiel to set the table for four, did Cas realize what had happened. They'd added yet _another_ place setting, and when Lily, Sam, and _new_ _boyfriend_ _Zeke_ arrived, they all made uncomfortable small talk until dinner was served. The conversation at the table had been stilted, and dinner passed quickly, but in the end, Lily and Sam had parted with a heartfelt hug and a promise to keep in touch, with Sam even wishing Zeke well. With both of them being so close to Dean and Castiel, it was unavoidable that Sam and Lily would be in each other's circle, so they needed to make the best of it.

Castiel put out food for the cats while Dean dished up the lasagna, which they proceeded to carry into the living room with their beverages. Dean handed Cas a pillow and grabbed one for himself, using them as makeshift placemats as they settled on the couch with steaming bowls in their laps. Dean reached over and picked up the remote, switching the television to an episode of Chopped that Castiel knew they wouldn't pay any attention to.

"You all packed for this weekend?" Dean asked, and Castiel nearly laughed at Dean's attempt to appear casual.

"Everything except what we need in the morning," Castiel said, placing his hand on the knee he was sure Dean didn't realize he was bouncing. "Dean. It'll be fine. I promise."

Dean chewed on his bottom lip, nodding absently.

Castiel put down his bowl on the coffee table next to his beer and cocked his head at Dean. 

"Hey," Cas said, reaching over to turn Dean's face to meet his eyes. "I mean it."

Dean blew out a breath, his own hand coming up to mirror Cas' gesture, thumb brushing against his five o'clock shadow.

"I'm holding you to that, sunshine."


	3. Chapter 3

Dean yawned and stretched his well-used body, aching deliciously in all the right places. Castiel had worked him over hard and long the night before, seeming to know that Dean needed the added connection of being able to feel him all over. 

His fiance, Dean knew, had risen at dawn, for his morning yoga and jog on the beach. The sheets next to him were cool to the touch, and Dean set his bleary eyes on his phone, resting on the nightstand. Snatching it up, he saw that it was just shy of seven, meaning Cas would be back soon.

Dean went about his morning ritual, taking a quick shower and dressing, then proceeded to pack his belongings into the open toiletry bag Castiel had left on the bathroom counter. The suitcase was packed. They would be in Maine from Friday until Sunday, though it was likely the rest of the SSP team would stay a few days longer, holed up to go over any evidence. Dean and Castiel rarely stuck around for that part, and he was happy with the plan to head back as soon as Cas' part of the investigation was finished. To be safe, Dean had booked a two-night reservation at a _Days Inn_ only fifteen minutes from the location. Just in case it took Castiel longer to deal with whatever they were going to be up against.

Dean and Cas' plan was to be on the road by nine, putting them in Saco by 1 pm. Once there, they would check into their room and wait to meet up with the rest of the team for a late lunch. After that, Dean would leave with Sam and Gabriel and the crew to the town of Morningstar, whose founder, the Morningstar home was named after. The proprietor would give them a tour, and Castiel would meet them with Baby when Dean called to say that it was time. Unless, of course, Castiel felt like coming and reading in the car while he waited for his turn inside, which to be fair, he often chose to do. 

This was one of those times where Dean would be happy to keep Castiel out until the last minute. Whenever the episode for this case was released, Castiel's face would be blurred, and the gravelly timbre of his voice would be distorted, per his fiance's request to remain anonymous. Some suspected, of course, who the mysterious medium was. Cult fans who followed the show and tried to keep up with the team on social media, but for the most part, they were lucky enough that Cas' anonymity remained intact.

Dean knew Cas would want a shower when he got back from his run, so he laid out his fiance's most comfortably worn-in jeans and a soft tee-shirt for traveling. Dean went to work in the kitchen, chopping up an onion and slicing portabellas, tossing them into a saute pan with oil to cook down a bit before adding some beaten eggs to make an omelet. 

Like clockwork, Castiel walked in from the back deck, looking sunkissed and damp from his run. Without words, Dean slid the omelet onto a plate at the table, along with a tall glass of orange juice. 

"Eat first, while it's hot," Dean commanded, before working on his own breakfast.

Castiel pressed a kiss to Dean's shoulder in thanks, then sat down to enjoy his meal. 

"Aren't you going to eat?" Castiel asked with a raised brow, and Dean shook his head, turning so he wouldn't have to see the concern on Cas' face. Instead, he poured himself a cup of coffee, tensing, then relaxing when Dean felt strong arms wrap around him from behind.

Castiel kissed unspoken promises into the back of Dean's neck: _I'll_ _be okay, it will be fine, stop worrying_.

* * *

  
  
They managed to make it on the road a little ahead of schedule, and Dean tapped his fingers on the steering wheel, letting the rumbling sound of tires on tar settle him.

"Did I tell you I got the confirmation on our reservation?" Castiel asked him as they cruised down the highway. Dean's face broke out into a wide smile at the question.

"Oh yeah?"

A sidelong glance showed Castiel nodding, looking just as happy as Dean felt at the news. With their wedding only months away, Dean and Castiel had finally decided on a honeymoon spot. Two weeks in a private bungalow in Waikiki, Hawaii. When Cas had first mentioned a beach themed honeymoon, Dean had been surprised. 

_"Dude, we live on the beach."_

_"Not the kind of beach where we can swim naked without freezing our balls off."_

Dean couldn't really argue with that, and besides, it was freaking _Hawaii_.

"Sweet. August needs to get here sooner," Dean said, and Castiel laughed.

"It'll be here quicker than you think, love."

Dean squeezed their laced fingers in response to Cas' tender words. 

For a while, it was quiet; both of them lost in thought. Around eleven-thirty, Dean stopped at a rest area so Castiel could use the facilities and grab something to drink. Just as Dean had predicted, they arrived in Saco around one, and it wasn't long before they were checking into their hotel, a decent one with an indoor and outdoor pool that Dean hoped to convince Cas to try out at some point this weekend.

Castiel shivered when they walked into their hotel room, dropping their shared suitcase onto the wide desk chair across from the king-sized bed.

"Why are the air conditioners in these places always set to frigid?" He asked, going over to adjust the temperature.

Dean laughed, grabbing their toiletry bag and taking a tour of the bathroom. Standard sized shower and tub, and an ample bathroom counter greeted him, complete with water glasses and ice bucket. Dean stepped back out into the room, and kicked off his sneakers, socked feet padding across the carpet to drop on the edge of the bed. Castiel took a turn in the bathroom, and Dean teased him about his tiny bladder.

"Fuck you," Castiel groused, voice carrying over his steady stream. "I had a lot of coffee."

Dean was still snickering when Cas came out, dodging out of the way when his fiance went to pinch him.

"Ouch," Dean yelped when Castiel got him right on his arm and retaliated by yanking the strong man down until Cas fell against him, and toppled them both over onto the bed. 

"Not smart, love," Castiel said, with a mischievous smile, his body effectively covering Dean from top to bottom. Dean wiggled underneath him, playfully.

"Really? Cause right now, I'm feeling like a genius," Dean punctuated the statement with a shallow thrust of his hips. Castiel regarded him; head cocked, pink bottom lip caught between his teeth and then-

"No. No, no, no, no, stop, Cas," Dean gasped for breath on a laugh as Castiel's deft fingers dug mercilessly into his sides, tickling him. Dean's body twisted and arched as Castiel showed no pity and continued to draw uncontrollable laughter from Dean, only pausing long enough for him to catch his breath before attacking him again. Eventually, though, the feeling of his body rubbing against Cas' had desire flaring, and Dean was caught between recoiling from Castiel's touch and seeking it out.

Laughter died out as Cas' fingers gentled to caresses, the mood change from playful to sultry, seamless. Without words, tees were drawn up and over each other's heads, and pants and boxers dragged over legs until Castiel laid against Dean, cradled between his bowed legs. Castiel angled down to kiss Dean's lips, and he smiled into it, before opening up for his fiance's deft tongue. Between their stomachs, Dean felt his cock harden, Castiel's plumping as well, and Dean gave a soft moan as they rubbed against each other. 

"How much time do we have?" Castiel's voice was gravel and whiskey as he dragged his lips away from Dean's to trail down his neck. Dean turned his head with an appreciative moan, relishing in the feeling of Cas sucking marks into his skin.

"Enough," Dean murmured, licking his palm and reaching between them. "Enough for this," and Castiel groaned against Dean's Adam's Apple when he closed his fist around their lengths and began to stroke. Castiel propped himself up on his elbow and brought his free hand down to lace with Dean's, making a tight tunnel for them to fuck into.

Castiel's expressive blue eyes stared into Dean's, making him feel naked and vulnerable and safe all at once because there was no one he could let go with like this but Cas. Dean's legs hitched around Castiel's waist as he rocked into their joined fist. It was lazy, and a little dry, with only spit and precome for lube, but still perfect and Dean quietly shuddered through his orgasm with Cas' tongue in his mouth. Castiel followed quickly, biting on Dean's lip when he came, groaning softly.

They traded soft kisses before Castiel heaved himself up to retrieve a wet washcloth, gently cleaning the drying cum between Dean's cock and treasure trail before wiping away his own. Dean chuckled when Cas chucked the damp washcloth into the bathroom, landing on the counter with a splat.

"We should get dressed," Castiel said, standing before him. Dean eyed him up and down, Cas' now flaccid cock nestled in the neat bush of dark hair, still gorgeous and he licked his lips. Dean wished, not for the first time, for the refractory period he had when he was in his twenties.

"We have a few minutes, come lay with me on this ugly bedspread," Dean pleaded with a grin and open arms. Castiel grinned and crawled across the truly horrific orange and yellow flower pattern, to lay next to Dean, face buried in his neck.

"I think I'm going to come on the tour with you guys," Castiel said, his deep voice breaking over the quiet hum of the air conditioner, and Dean turned his head, so they were face to face, practically nose to nose. "With this case… I already know so much from what's public knowledge; it doesn't make much sense for me to sit it out."

Dean thought about it and felt a little bit of relief. Castiel being with them from the get-go meant getting this whole case over and done with quicker, and he was all for that. The knowing look in his fiance's eyes told Dean that Cas suspected as much, and Dean felt a rush of gratitude for the man he loved more than life. 

"I suppose that makes sense," Dean said evenly, and Cas' soft smile told Dean he heard the thank you that was left unsaid. Dean craned his neck to look at the alarm clock, bolted to the nightstand. "It's almost two; we'll be meeting for lunch soon." They'd agreed to meet at a Denny's not far from Dean and Cas' hotel.

Castiel shifted so Dean could rise, and Dean kissed him on the temple before he stood. Dean picked up the phone that had slipped out of the pocket of his jeans and onto the floor. Checking his messages, Dean found one from Sam.

_From Jerk: Hey, we just entered Saco, should be at the diner at quarter past. Get dressed and meet us there._

Dean snickered at how well his brother knew him and Castiel.

"They'll be there in about twenty. Just enough time for us to dress and head over," Dean said, walking naked over to their suitcase. He pulled them both out fresh clothes that didn't smell of coffee and travel sweat, tossing Cas' on the bed. They traded sappily, sated grins as they dressed. Dean would never tire of the way Castiel made him feel, especially after sex. All soft and owned.

Before they could walk out the door, Castiel had Dean pressed against it, stealing a long, drugging kiss, grasping Dean's face possessively in his wide-palmed hands. When Castiel pulled back, Dean felt dazed and warm.

"Come on," Castiel said, lips still close enough to drag over Dean's kiss-swollen ones. "I feel like pancakes."

  
  
  
  
  



	4. Chapter 4

“Dude, there’s a fucking moat!” Dean exclaimed as he stood, staring slack-jawed at the large manor house looming in front of them. “No one said anything about a moat.”

For someone who just got off, quite spectacularly if Castiel did say so himself, and followed it up with a Denny’s Lumberjack slam- _it's never the wrong time of day for breakfast, Cas_ \- Dean was a ball of nervous energy. It practically rolled off of him in waves. Long gone was the sleepy, sated man he'd climaxed with back in their hotel room. Castiel let his hand travel down Dean’s back, grazing along the soft material of his teeshirt, to settle in the dip of his spine. 

“It’s just a small one, Dean-o,” Gabriel said, shutting the door of the SSP van behind him, eyes lit with excitement as he took in the view.

The Morningstar property was off of a dead-end dirt road, featuring a long tree-lined driveway, that opened up into a small gravel parking lot. Hidden amongst tall pines, the manor stood, forbiddingly. There was, indeed, a moat, complete with a lowered wooden drawbridge that looked to be well-maintained.

“Well,” Sam said, “at least we’ll get our exercise lugging all the equipment to the house.”

Charlie and Kevin groaned at that, but Castiel tuned them out as he observed his fiance. 

“What’s wrong,” Castiel asked, concerned by his quietness, but Dean only shrugged, eyes still focused on the house.

“Just trying not to think of all the different ways I feel like we’re somehow going to get stuck out there tonight. Freak storm. Bridge collapse. Look at this place, Cas. It’s like the Amityville horror house.”

It was a menacing figure, to be sure. Large stone turrets and full windows that from so far away, looked black. And it smelled like-

“Fire,” Dean murmured, sniffing at the air. “Doesn’t it smell like something is burning?”

Sam, who had come to stand next to his brother, shook his head.

“No,” Sam said, and Castiel noticed Charlie, Gabriel, and Kevin also shaking their heads in the negative as well. Castiel caught Dean’s gaze and gave a slight nod to indicate that he agreed with him, though it put Castiel a little on edge to know that Dean could scent it too. Cas had always believed Dean to be a bit of a sensitive, and he wondered what else his fiance would unknowingly pick up on.

Right now, Castiel wondered if there had ever been a fire on the property. 

“I say we meet up with the proprietor and take the tour, and come back for the equipment and our luggage afterward,” Gabriel said, no one arguing with the suggestion.

Castiel took Dean’s hand as they made their way across the drawbridge, and he huffed a laugh when Dean shot a reluctant look at his car, as though saying goodbye.

“Baby will be fine,” Castiel teased, and Dean grinned at him, sheepishly, knowing he had been caught.

As they crossed over the water and headed towards the manor, Castiel scanned the grounds. It was deceptively tranquil, with an eerie stillness, the only sound coming from the babbling stream beneath them. With so many trees, he expected to hear birds, rustling pine needles, and chatter from the chipmunks scurrying about. Only there was nothing; until Castiel’s eyes lit on the left side of the house. The definite form of a woman stood by the water's edge. Still, with Cas so far away, he couldn’t make any of her features out, and in a blink, she vanished. Castiel pressed himself closer to Dean’s side, glancing up to find his expressive green eyes already scrutinizing his face.

“You okay, Cas?” Dean asked quietly, and he nodded, not ready to share what he’d seen. No point in freaking Dean out just yet. Nor did Castiel mention the shadow shapes he kept seeing pass by the windows, the closer they got to the looming house.

When they finally crossed the drawbridge and on to the path leading up to the grand building, the main door opened, and a tiny sprite of a woman drifted out. She moved with elegant grace, and her hair caught the afternoon sunlight, catching it on fire. Dean snickered beside him as they watched Sam outright goggle at the attractive redhead waiting to greet them with a charming smile.

“Welcome to Morningstar Manor,” the woman said warmly, her Scottish lilt almost musical. “I’m Rowena MacLeod. I’m so pleased you could come out here.”

Sam, still speechless, let Gabriel make the introductions as Rowena led them into the vast entryway of the manor.

“Thank you so much for having us. I’m Gabriel, and this is Sam,” Gabriel turned and gestured towards Kevin and Charlie. “Our tech crew, Charlie and Kevin.” Rowena shook hands with them all before her eyes settled on Castiel and Dean.

“And is one of these handsome boys the one I had to sign a non-disclosure for?” she asked, not unkindly, but with amusement in her voice.

“Hello, Ms. MacLeod. I’m Castiel Novak, Gabriel’s brother. I appreciate you going along with our stipulation. My fiance and I,” Castiel nodded his head at Dean,” we live a quiet life, and prefer to keep my name out of any investigation our brothers’ team has.”

Dean stepped forward, holding out his hand. “Dean Winchester, older brother to the moose over there who can’t seem to find his words,” he said with a grin, and Sam rolled his eyes, cheeks pink with embarrassment. "And yes, thank you for respecting Cas' wishes."

“It’s quite alright. I understand wanting your privacy. I imagine having the abilities you do, Castiel, to be both a burden and a gift. Your man, here, I would guess, is something of a spiritual bodyguard?” Rowena asked with a kind and speculative eye, and Castiel laughed.

“Something like that,” he said, with a fond look at Dean, who merely smiled back at him softly, dragging his hand down Castiel's arm, to his wrist, before lacing their fingers palm to palm. Castiel squeezed, gently. He so loved how tactile Dean was, never afraid to show affection in public, no matter who the audience.

Following Rowena, they entered the building. The air was cool with a hint of something floral, though the only plants he saw were tall and leafy, and sported no blooms. The flooring was white marble, but the walls and the grand staircase were carpeted in deep crimson. Sconces lit with faux candles lined the walls, and a remarkable crystal chandelier hung from the middle of the ceiling. At the top of the stairs, Castiel could see what looked like a large portrait that he guessed was of the Morningstar family.

They climbed the winding staircase, and Dean huffed beside him. “Maybe no more sausage and bacon right before physical activity,” he joked, and Castiel laughed.

“To be fair, you ate it _after_ physical activity,” Castiel teased with a wink that earned him a playful kiss that ended too quickly.

At the top of the landing, Castiel blocked out the talk about architecture that was going on between Rowena and Gabriel. As Dean observed him, Cas turned a full circle, and just felt the space. Again, like outside, it was quiet. It was as though the house was holding its breath and waiting. Even as he had the thought, Castiel felt the air stir, just a cold, light breeze, but he could see nothing.

Someone was hiding.

That wasn’t unusual. Spirits often hid from Castiel, especially when they realized what he could do. Even more so, the ones who didn't want to leave a location.

Rowena gestured towards the large portrait Castiel had noticed from downstairs. Every face was a stern mask, and Castiel shot Dean a warning look, knowing what was coming. Watching as Dean studied the picture, a little grin tugging at his lips, Castiel rolled his eyes.

“Dean, don’t-”

“I guess this was before they invented the Hershey Bar, huh?” Dean quipped, and Castiel elbowed him.

“Dean.”

“What? Look how constipated they are. I’ve seen happier faces at the DMV.”

“Dean!”

Castiel turned towards Rowena, to apologize for Dean, but she only appeared amused with Dean’s commentary.

“Um, please continue, Ms. MacLeod,” Sam said, epic bitch-face on full display when he glared at Dean. Castiel’s lips twitched at Dean’s all too fake expression of innocence. 

“Here we have the last occupants of Morningstar Manor. Lucifer, his wife, Anna, his brother Michael, and Michael’s wife, Ruby.

“Lucifer was the eldest and was encouraged to marry at a very young age by his father. It was always imperative for these old families to have children to secure the family line. He was betrothed from infancy to Anna Milton,” Rowena indicted the winsome redhead in the photo. Her expression was almost blank, and Castiel wondered if that was her nature or merely the artist’s rendering. “Unfortunately,” Rowena said, with a glance up at the painting, “no children were conceived from the marriage; in fact, it wasn’t long after Lucifer and Anna were wed, that poor girl became mute. No doctor could explain why.”

“That’s not ominous,” Dean whispered into Cas ear, as Rowena continued, and Castiel only hummed in response.

“As for Michael,” Rowena pointed at the tall dark-haired man, with a severely stoic face alongside an equally dark-haired woman Castiel assumed was Ruby. “Rumor had it that he was always bitter that the estate was left under Lucifer’s care to manage when Michael did the majority of its handlings.”

Rowena led them further down the corridor, pointing out different bedrooms and who they used to belong to. 

“I have all you set up in the east wing; I know that Castiel and Dean are staying in town,” she smiled back at them,” but just in case you do decide to stay, there is a room ready for you as well.”

“Ms. MacLeod,” Sam spoke up, only to have their hostess press a long manicured finger to his lips. Sam’s eyes crossed as he followed the movement, and Dean covered his laugh with a cough.

“Rowena, please, dear. Ms. Macleod is much too formal,” her voice practically purred, and Castiel heard Charlie and Kevin snicker behind them.

“Yes, of course, Rowena. Can you tell us more about how the manor got its tragic reputation?” Sam said.

“Well, as you well know, there were many deaths here. Much has been speculated on the how and the why, and I say speculated because tragically, there was no one left alive to tell the tale.”

“May I ask, Rowena,” Castiel said, with a quick look at Dean, “ did there happen to be a fire on the estate?”

Rowena's delicate brows rose in surprise, eyes studying him thoughtfully before she nodded, “Yes." 

Dean let out a shaky sigh at the confirmation.

Rowena crossed over to one of the numerous windows in the second-floor corridor. “Aside from the Morningstar family, there was also a farmhand named Samandriel, the housekeeper, Leticia Gore, and her two children, Caleb and Franklin, who lived on the property. There used to be a barn, where the milking cows and chickens were housed. The children often followed along after Samandriel out there. He would indulge them, and they would camp out in the hayloft,” She sighed, and when her eyes turned from the window, they were misty with sadness.

“Samandriel and the young children were found burned to death in a barn fire that the police decreed was deliberately set. “ 

Castiel heard Dean’s sharp intake of breath at the words, and he let go of Dean's hand to slip his arm around his waist.

“Oh my God,” Charlie gasped.

“It is quite awful,” Rowena conceded, leading them down a back staircase and into the kitchen. “The housekeeper, Leticia, was also found dead, drowned in the moat on the back end of the estate.”

“And they suspected foul play?” Castiel asked.

“Going by the ring of bruises around her neck, they suggested she was strangled before she was tossed in the water.”

“Near the barn?” Gabriel asked, jotting notes into his phone when Rowena nodded in the affirmative.

“Anna and Michael were both found to be poisoned, “ Rowena said as they descended from the opposite staircase and returned to the foyer. “As were Lucifer and Ruby, but the state of decay of their bodies suggested that the latter died at a later date.”

“So the police were never able to prove who did what to whom definitely?” Sam questioned.

“No, though, considering Lucifer and Ruby were the last ones alive, one would assume one or the other was guilty.”

“Murder-suicide?” Dean offered, and Rowena gave a contemplative nod.

“Possibly,” Rowena said as she gestured for them all to be seated at the long wooden table. “Please, sit. I’ll make some coffee.”

Refusing the offer of help, Rowena placed sugar and cream on the table, as well as a plate of cookies.

“It was quiet when I first bought the place. I’d see shadows sometimes, but for the most part, other than a peculiar feeling of being watched, I have had no issues. It wasn’t until I started renovating that the activity ramped up. I never planned for this to be the cozy B&B’s that you see in Vermont,” Rowena explained. “I knew that a house with this kind of history would cater more towards your types or thrill-seekers. I’m fine with that. If people want to pay me to scare themselves silly, then who am I to pass up their money. I suppose I was naive, to think that I would be immune.” 

“Unfortunately, that is a common trend in haunted houses,” Gabriel said, steepling his fingers. “When you start changing things, it kind of wakes them up. Spirits don’t like it when their familiar surroundings start to become unfamiliar.”

“Yes, well,” Rowena pursed her lips in irritation, “as much as I feel for them, I can’t keep any workers. I’m not going to deny that I was hoping to exploit this place as a haunted getaway,” she said, and Castiel grimaced at that; he found it disrespectful to the dead but bit his tongue. 

“But I have to live here year-round, and I’d prefer it if I could do so without being afraid to take a bath. You know how well a good ghost story draws in the tourists. But, we open in June, and I can’t seem to keep anyone on long enough to help. I had to call out of state.” Rowena placed rustic, earthenware mugs in front of everyone, and proceeded to pour freshly brewed coffee into them.

Next to him, Dean picked up a cookie and bit into it, looking all at once like he wanted to spit it out, which he did when Rowena returned the coffee pot to the burner.

“Dude, that was gross,” Dean whispered to him.

“Dean,” Castiel hissed, side-eying his fiance, warning in his tone.

“No offense, but it is.”

“Dean, I swear!”

“I’m just saying maybe it’s not the ghosts scaring people off,” he murmured, and Castiel rolled his eyes heavenward, wishing for patience. Or a joint.

“I am begging you to behave,” Castiel pleaded quietly as Rowena again seated herself at the table, knowing that it was Dean's nervous energy making him so obnoxious, and finding it hard to stay annoyed.

“Can you tell us about some of the activity that you’ve experienced recently?” Sam asked, taking a cookie from the plate, despite Dean’s eyes comically bugging out in wordless warning.

“Where do I start?” she sighed, painstakingly. “There is the woman who wanders the property. She has long, dark hair, and is always in a nightgown. I haven’t been able to find any pictures of Leticia Gore, but my guess is that it is her, because she is often found down by the water. Lady Anna has been seen by quite a few people, often moving up and down the stairs.”

 _The shadows by the window_ , Castiel thought to himself.

“Anything else?” Gabriel asked, as Sam graciously choked down his cookie, and quickly washed it down with his coffee.

Rowena let out a shaky sigh. “As I mentioned, I constantly feel watched, but lately, sometimes… I don’t know, I'm just really angry and frustrated. I’ll be off the property all day, and I will feel fine, but as soon as I step one foot across the drawbridge, all of that changes. I become stressed, irritated, and downright furious, for no explicable reason. The housekeeping staff, as well, they often hear doors opening and closing, they hear children playing…”

Castiel tuned out the rest, hearing enough. Standing up, he walked over to the kitchen window; Dean, of course, followed behind. Firm arms circled his middle, Dean's chin resting on Castiel's shoulder. The tender embrace more than made up for Dean's cookie commentary and he sighed, turning his face to brush his lips across Dean's gorgeous jawline, before turning his eyes back to the grounds below.

Castiel would base the rest of what he learned about the place through his own observations. Cas wasn’t sure what was going on at Morningstar Manor, whether any of these happenings were intelligent hauntings or merely residual, but no doubt, he would get to the bottom of it.

Eyes drawn to the moat showed Castiel that the dark-haired woman was by the water, again, with her head bowed. Castiel shivered when her chin lifted. Even from inside the manor, Cas knew she was looking directly at him. Suppressing a shiver, he settled more fully against Dean’s chest, his anchor, never breaking the woman’s gaze until she disappeared again.

  
  
  
  



	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry this chapter is so late, guys. My brother, who lives in Poland, was home for a few weeks and I was taking family time.

The place freaked Dean out, he wasn't gonna lie. Cas' constant hissing of his name paired with the arched brow that never failed to turn him on, showed Dean how epically he was failing at hiding that fact. Morningstar Manor was freaky as fuck, and Dean would be happy when they were finished with this case. Until then, he would have to fake it until he made it.

The coffee, and dog biscuits masquerading as cookies, were rolling uncomfortably in his stomach. Even with the reassuring weight of Castiel leaning against him, all warmth and stubble, Dean still felt cold. He still felt… watched. He hated to even admit it, even after all this time. 

A slight tightening in Castiel's shoulders had Dean tensing as well, and though he didn't say so, he was sure Cas saw something.

"How about I show you all your rooms, and then you can set up whatever equipment you need?" Rowena's pleasant lilt startled them both, and Dean realized that everyone was leaving the table.

Sam moved to start clearing the dishes, and Rowena laughed. "No, dearie, just leave it for now," Dean smirked at his brother, and Sam rewarded him with his classic bitchface for his efforts.

"Can I ask," Rowena started delicately, "If you have dear Castiel here, why do you need all the rest," she asked, gesturing to the cases of equipment.

"What Cas does is remarkable," Sam said earnestly, "but without scientific evidence to back it up, it's only hearsay or guesswork; At least in the eyes of the scientific community."

"And may I ask, Castiel? Have you seen anything?" All eyes turned towards his fiance, and Dean couldn't help but edge in closer, a protective stance that was utterly unnecessary, but he was helpless to prevent.

Bee stung, angular lips curved up in the barest hint of a smile, as Castiel's blue eyes stared knowingly into Dean's. 

"I'm still taking it all in." 

* * *

While the crew went about exploring their rooms and setting up equipment, Dean and Castiel went outside to check out the former barn area. The sound of water lapping against the grounds accompanied them as they walked. The scent of fire was gone, and Dean found himself wondering if he'd imagined it. Or maybe he didn't, who knew? It was Maine, after all. Campfire smoke carried a long way over a swift breeze.

Even if it was all in his head, the feeling of being under a microscope wasn't. 

Dean stood silently as Castiel moved around, eyes darting everywhere, as though cataloging every overgrown weed and gnarled tree roots. There was a pinched look on his arresting face, and Dean could tell Cas was getting frustrated.

"There's something here," Castiel said, as he returned to Dean's side, sliding his palm against Dean's and lacing their fingers. "It's hiding. I can feel it, even now, watching us."

Dean felt a shiver go through his body.

"Yeah, okay. That's not creepy at all," he deadpanned, and Cas gave a raspy chuckle.

"Sorry," Castiel said, with a squeeze to Dean's hand. They stood on the grounds, and Dean's eyes wandered, taking in the way the land was surrounded by water. The width from the edge of the property, across the moat, was at most, sixty feet. Pine trees encircled the property almost entirely, the only break in the formation being the dirt road they'd driven to get to the Manor's parking lot. 

The air stirred with a cool breeze as they walked across the overgrown lawn, and Dean wondered if the landscaper had been among the workers who had quit.

"I don't feel any of the children," Castiel said as they stepped onto the drawbridge.

"That's a good thing, right?" Dean asked, and Castiel nodded.

"Yes, I am exceedingly relieved. But I believe I _have_ seen the dead mother," Castiel said, so casually that Dean nearly laughed. "She makes me nervous." 

Castiel did look a little on edge, more so than usual. Cas usually walked into a location and almost immediately had an idea of what was going on. Something about this case was different. 

"Do you think she's evil?" Dean asked.

"I don't know," Castiel's voice airing just on the side of clipped.

"So, is she the only one who's been watching us?" Dean asked, the sound of their feet clomping on the wooden bridge loudly, and Castiel's eyes flashed to Dean's

"I don't know," Castiel repeated, strained. 

"Do you think it's Lucifer?" 

"I don't _know_ , Dean," Castiel growled impatiently.

"Okay, okay, just asking," Dean said, holding his free hand up in a peace offering, and Castiel's moody blue eyes turned soft.

"I'm sorry, Dean, my frustration is not your fault," Castiel apologized, leaning against Baby, glaring intently at the house now separated from them by the water.

Dean settled next to him, nudging Cas' shoulder with his own. 

"S'okay. I was egging you on. I just want you to talk to me."

"I know. I still shouldn't have snapped," Cas said regretfully.

"You can make it up to me later," Dean said teasingly, trying to lighten the mood. "If it makes you feel better, it's not just you. This definitely doesn't feel like the usual haunted house creepiness," Dean admitted. "It's more. I feel… I feel like I'm being studied."

Cas scowled at that, lips poking out in an adorable pout that put Dean's to shame.

"That's what I am afraid of," Cas said, and Dean watched as he turned, jerkily, and gestured for Dean to unlock the car. Castiel slid into the passenger seat, and by the time Dean made his way to the driver's side, Castiel had fished his weed out of the glove compartment and was packing a small bowl in record time. When Cas went to open the door, Dean grabbed his knee. 

"Just roll down the window, it's fine," Dean murmured, wanting to be close to his keyed up fiance.

Dean said nothing as Castiel inhaled the fragrant smoke, relaxing bit by bit with every puff. They would not be returning to the house until nightfall, and Dean would not begrudge Cas the chill time.

"It feels pointed. I'm not even catching them out of the corner of my eye, yet I feel them. Whoever it is, wants me to know they're here, but doesn't want me to see them. It's a game," Castiel said, irritation lacing his gravelly voice.

"Do you feel them now? Or the woman? You see her out here?" Dean asked, his neck craning out the rolled-down window and seeing nothing. Castiel shook his head in the negative before blowing out a large plume of smoke.

"No. I haven't since we set foot off of the bridge."

Dean knew that wasn't unusual. Many spirits were bound to a location or object, so it made sense that he and Castiel were both breathing a little easier, sitting in the familiar warmth of Baby.

"What if I can't fix it?" Castiel's quiet question had Dean sighing softly. Of course, that was the primary source of Cas' irritation, the idea of not being able to help someone in need. "What if they don't want me to?"

"Cas, you can't take that all on your own. Every case you try your best, and every case you walk away, having helped someone. And sweetheart, that is so amazing. But if for some reason, this person, this spirit, stays in the shadows? That's okay, too. You can't save everyone," Dean reminded him gently, "no matter how hard you try. "

"Now, where have I heard that before?" Castiel asked, with playfully narrowed brows and Dean shrugged.

"Just some hot guy, I know," Dean said teasingly, and Castiel hummed in contemplation.

"Hot guy, hmm?" Castiel asked, carefully tapping the ash out of the bowl into his palm and wiping it on his jeans, leaving greyish black streaks on his leg.

"Smokin," Dean said with a quick wink as Castiel continued to pack up his supplies and put them back in the glove compartment.

"Should I be jealous?" Castiel asked with a wickedly arched brow as Dean made the casual move to straddling Castiel's thick thighs, trapping them with his bowed legs efficiently. Salt and pepper stubble lined Cas' jaw and Dean couldn't resist brushing his fingers against it as he cradled Cas' face.

"Absolutely not," Dean said with a grin, staring into deep blue eyes that crinkled in amusement even as they darkened with desire. Castiel's fingers found their way into the back pocket of Dean's jeans, and he grunted in surprise when Castiel squeezed his ass.

"Good answer," Castiel growled before surging forward for a kiss. It was deep and wet and had them soon both forgetting all about creepy houses and apparitions. Fingers twisted in each other's hair, as their bodies grew more heated. The cool breeze of late spring filtered through the windows, teasing at damp temples as they continued to kiss, touch, and taste each other.

Dean lost track of time, the shadows of the trees shortening with the oncoming gloaming, as day turned to dusk. He would never tire of this, Dean was sure. Being lost in his man, in the feeling of Castiel's fingers on his skin, scraping up and under the soft fabric of Dean's tee-shirt. The delicious citrusy scent of his body wash, the velvet softness of Cas' tongue as it undulated against Dean's. More than anything, Dean loved the soft sounds he pulled from Castiel's throat when he tugged on the dark strands of his hair just right or sucked on his pillowy bottom lip. High pitched little gasps of sound that only ever happened when they were together like this, such a contrast from Castiel's usual sandpaper gruffness.

Dean could feel the hard evidence of Cas arousal as he shifted on his fiance's lap, and earned himself another squeeze on his ass.

"Cas," Dean murmured, dragging his lips away, only to tip his head back on a sigh as Castiel's lips attached themselves to his clavicle, sucking and licking all the way up to his neck. When Cas began to mark the sensitive spot beneath Dean's ear, he all but melted into the man's arms, unashamed of his quiet moan.

This was stupid and risky, rutting together in their clothes, like teenagers necking in a car at the end of a date, but Dean loved it. It still blew his mind that this incredible, sexy, wonderful, caring person was his to love, to touch. Castiel was going to be his husband. _Husband!_ Dean felt like the luckiest son of a bitch in the world.

"How much time do we have," Cas' voice was rough as he whispered the words into Dean's ear before catching the lobe his teeth. Fairly sure his eyes were crossing, it took Dean a minute to respond, fingers clenching in Castiel's tee-shirt, as he gasped softly.

"Depends," Dean managed, finally, when Castiel's teeth released his flesh, bringing his gaze to meet Dean's, cornflower eyes gleaming in the darkening interior of the car. 

"On what?"

"Whether you want dinner," Dean said, leaning down to sip from kiss-swollen lips, humming against them, "or if you rather fuck me in the backseat?" he said it coyly, loving the possessive look that always came over Cas' face when Dean said things like that. "We don't have time for both," they probably did, but this was part of the fun of it.

"Get in the backseat and strip," voice like whiskey on the rocks, the words were barely past Castiel's lips when Dean hopped out of the car to get the back of the Impala. He quickly kicked off his shoes, and whipped his tee-shirt over his head, before reclining lengthwise and lifting his hips to undo his jeans. Impatient, Castiel followed, climbing into the backseat and shoved at Dean's hands and dragged the material down his legs himself.

Dean knew he should feel exposed like this, one leg dangling off the seat, foot planted on the floor; the other, up and resting over the back, wedged against the glass. Especially with Cas' eyes devouring him like a feast, as he loomed over Dean, still fully clothed, though he had at some point opened his jeans. Still, Dean felt safe. Vulnerable, yes, but it was good. Castiel made him feel cherished and wanted, and that was why despite the heat he knew suffused his face at being in such a position, Dean was eager for it, eying the small bottle of lube resting in Cas' curled fist, that he must have palmed after putting away his weed.

When slick fingers breached Dean's entrance, he arched into it. Castiel made quick work of stretching Dean's hole, opening easily after years of muscle memory and Cas' talented fingers. Castiel kneeled between Dean's legs, his own pants now shoved down to mid-thigh, and Dean nearly licked his lips at the sight of his thick cock. Dean held out his palm out for permission, and Castiel squeezed the lube into Dean's waiting hand with the one not buried in his ass. Castiel hissed when Dean gripped him firmly, stroking his shaft. Castiel fell forward, braced on one side as he moved into Dean's fist in shallow thrusts as he continued to work Dean open, fingers purposely brushing Dean's sweet spot and making him see stars.

All around them, the woods seemed to come to life as crickets sounded, and owls hooted in the trees. Water lapped at the shore, a soft accompaniment to their gasps and sighs, and when Castiel finally slid home, it was with twin cries of pleasure; guttural and needy.

Car sex was never as comfortable as in the sanctuary of their own bed, but Dean and Cas always made it work. The want, the desperation, always added an edge when they were together like this, when their need for each other superseded logic and indecent exposure laws.

Faster than he could have predicted, Dean was rocketing closer and closer to orgasm, body sweaty and sticky against the seats. Castiel braced one hand on the back of the passenger seat as he hunched over Dean, thrusts now deeper, harder. When Castiel used his free hand to wrap around Dean's dick, he howled. 

"You're so gorgeous, Dean," Castiel panted as his hips rolled, each slap of skin louder than the next. "So perfect," Cas tipped his head back, lips parted on a ragged sigh as Dean squeezed around Castiel's cock. Dean wanted to disagree, because what could be more perfect, more beautiful than Castiel, himself, surging into Dean with lust blown eyes and fucked-out sex hair?

The car creaked as they raced to completion, a cacophony of grunts, moans, and groans merging with the sharp sounds of nature, and one well-placed twist of Cas wrist as his cockhead brushed Dean's prostate was all it took. Dean arched, locking up on a silent cry as his orgasm rushed through him, cum pulsing from his cock over Castiel's knuckles. When Dean relaxed his clenching, Cas moved to pull out, but Dean whined in protest.

"No. In me. Come in me, please," Dean begged, not caring about how sensitive he would be soon, and Castiel groaned, burying his face against Dean's shoulder as he pistoned with a growl to his own finish, giving a full-body shudder when he came, hot and powerful into Dean's welcoming body. 

As much as they would have loved to linger, it was getting late, and Dean was not in a position he was eager to be found in by his brother or any of the SSP crew. Castiel practically fell over the front street, stretching to reach the glove compartment to get the wet wipes they kept stashed in there. Dean limply brushed the back of Cas' thigh while he waited, legs splayed, pucker dripping between his legs. Castiel shifted back, biting his lip and groaning at the sight before him, and Dean blushed at his covetous look. Only Castiel could still look so wickedly hot, while spent and wiping his soft cock and pubes with a baby wipe. 

After cleaning himself, Castiel tended to Dean, finishing him off with a soft kiss pressed lovingly to his puffy, pink hole. 

Quickly dressing, Dean and Cas decided they did have time to hit the McDonald's drive-thru that wasn't too far away, and they scarfed hot fries in the parking lot on the hood of the Impala, sharing a twenty-piece McNugget and an extra-large root beer. Dean was having such a good time; he almost forgot their reason for being there. The buzzing of the phone in his pocket brought him back to reality, and Dean felt bad when Castiel gave him an apologetic little smile. It wasn't Cas' fault that Dean still had nightmares of Castiel being possessed again. Dean hated feeling this way, all twisted up inside. He never wanted to be someone that would stand in the way of what Cas needed to do. Not just wanted but _needed_. Helping people with his gift, it wasn't just a job; it was who Castiel was. Dean would never make him choose between that part of himself and Dean's peace of mind, but _fuck_ , did he wish the man he loved would stick with cases about sweet little old ladies instead of tragedy and murder.

Dean leaned over and kissed the I'm _sorry_ off Castiel's face before he slid off the car. Castiel followed suit, pausing when his own cell phone rang. No doubt, Sam, since Dean had ignored his call.

Winking at Dean across Baby's hood, Castiel answered, voice high and nasal: "Ghostbusters, how may I direct your call?"

Dean let out an explosion of laughter, yet again awed and delighted that this massively sexy dork was his fiance. Cas continued talking as they buckled and left the parking lot.

"We're on our way, Sam. No, thank you, we already ate. We'll see you soon."

"Everything okay on their end?" Dean asked as he pulled back onto the main road.

"Yes. They're all set up, and it's been quiet. Sam asked if we wanted any of the stew that Rowena served them for dinner," Castiel said, and Dean chanced a glance to find him already staring at Dean with a smirk on his lips, "but as you heard, I told him we already ate."

Dean grunted in approval. After that cookie debacle, no way was he ingesting stew, especially in some creepy murder house where people were poisoned to death. 

The road was dark as they drove, and as much as Dean loved holding Cas' hand, they were in the lake region of Maine, and he didn't relish having his Baby crushed by a moose or a deer. Dean settled, quite happily, for Cas' head on his shoulder and hand on his thigh.

All too soon, they were back at the estate, Dean sighed. He turned off the engine and turned to face Castiel. The moon was bright, highlighting Cas as more than just an inky shadow in the car, Dean stored the look of him into his memory; soft, and sated, bathed in moonlight.

Dean locked the car and took Cas' hand as they stepped onto the bridge. The change was palpable. 

Any semblance of relaxation was gone, the moment his boot hit the first wooden plank. The air was charged and tense. Dean put one foot in front of the other, knowing without having to look that Castiel was on high alert too. Something was going to happen.

Halfway across the bridge, it did.

A cold hand grabbed Dean's leg, yanking hard. With a startled yell, he tripped, falling to his knees, hard.

Cas barely had time to react, crouching before Dean, voice alarmed-" Dean? What-"

"Fuck! Cas!" Dean was grabbed again, with a supernatural force that had him sliding, fast and rough, beneath the railing and into the shockingly cold water. Dean heard Castiel screaming his name, the call for Sam, but he couldn't move. He felt paralyzed. Dean couldn't splash or kick, could only open his mouth to suck in a deep breath before he was pulled again, this time down, and _fuck_ , this moat was deeper than he thought. As Dean ran out of air, there was a ringing in his ear.

 _I'm sorry. But he needs to be weak._

The words seemed to float around him, echoing underneath the dark water, making no sense. He saw the cloud of bubbles that told him someone, likely Cas, had dived in after him, and yet still, Dean couldn't move. All he could do was hold his breath until his lungs burned until he couldn't anymore. Without his permission, his body reacted. Reflexively, Dean gasped, and the inhale of cold water trapped in his throat and lungs was nothing short of terrifying.

Strong, familiar arms locked around Dean, dragging him out of the frigid water, the shock of the night air causing him to gasp again, lapsing into a coughing fit as Castiel jerkily swam them backward, Dean with his back to Cas' chest. Dean was vaguely aware of panicked voices around him, and Castiel, with the help of Sam and Gabriel, hauled Dean up first, and then Castiel, up onto the bank, from the water. There was the sound of running feet, and then suddenly, blankets were wrapped around him, and Cas' was face buried in his neck. 

" _You're okay, you're okay, you're okay_ ," the words were barely a whisper, a litany of teary relief falling from Cas' mouth and pressed into Dean's throat. Dean realized his teeth were chattering, and everyone around him was talking, little bits of conversation filtering in. He wondered where Charlie and Kevin were.

"We're getting the fuck out of here."

That was Sam, Dean thought as he shivered, but his eyes were drawn to Castiel. On his knees, Castiel's blanket-wrapped arms encircled Dean's waist tightly. His wet, tousled hair tickled Dean's neck, and he imagined that if Cas could crawl inside of him right now, he would. Dean knew the feeling, and he, with lips still trembling from the cold, bent to kiss the top of Cas' head. When Cas drew back, his stormy eyes settled on the innocent looking bridge. His face was a stoic mask. 

"We can't leave, Samwise, I'm sorry."

"Gabriel, something just tried to drown my brother, we're fucking leaving," Sam's words made Gabe flinch, and Dean winced, knowing his friend was no doubt thinking about Balthazar. Cas' expression, however, didn't flicker.

Gabriel rolled his eyes. "No, I mean, we _can't_ leave. Rowena was going to stay with her friend Billie while we investigated, but she just called. The road is closed. Log truck crashed, it's gonna be hours before it's cleared. "

Dean couldn't help it. He began to laugh hysterically. He felt eyes on him and knew he must look one fry short of a happy meal, but it was uncontrollable.

"Log trucks," he panted when his chortles died down. "I never thought of log trucks. Not that it matters, since apparently the only way to my car means passing over the ugly old troll, who lives under the bridge, and apparently wants me dead. I told you we'd somehow get trapped here," Dean scowled playfully at Castiel, but his fiance wasn't in the least bit amused. Instead, Cas stood and glared out over the water, gaze still focused on the bridge. His expression was thunderous, and Dean forced himself to rise as well, leaning against Cas, who slipped a supportive arm around Dean's waist automatically.

"Let's get you guys in and dry," Sam said, clapping a hand on Dean's shoulder. He hid it pretty well, but Dean could tell his brother was shaken up. Dean plastered on a reassuring smile. 

"Yeah," Gabriel nodded. "Rowena's got a closet full of clothes that need to be taken to goodwill. Kevin and Charlie went with her to grab you both something to wear that'll fit, while yours dry."

"Dean, I'm sorry," Castiel finally whispered, as the others started inside. "If we hadn't come…"

"Don't even say it, Cas. If we hadn't come, it could have happened to somebody else. This isn't your fault," Dean rushed to reassure Castiel when he saw the gleam of tears in his eyes. He watched as Castiel swallowed them back, taking a deep breath. 

"Okay," Castiel nodded, "okay, you're right. I can't let it fuck with me," Cas started to move, guiding Dean along with him towards the entrance of the manor. Dean did not allow himself to look back, even when he felt the heavy weight of eyes on him the whole way.

  
  
  



	6. Chapter 6

The room Rowena set them up with was warm and cozy, complete with a fireplace, yet to Castiel, it felt like a prison. There was a sick, twisted feeling in his stomach that wouldn't leave, no matter how many times he looked at Dean and reassured himself that he was still there, alive, whole, and okay.

Castiel had been scared before. Being possessed by Hannah, his body out of his control, that had been truly frightening. But it was nothing compared to the bone-deep fear that had gripped Castiel's chest when Dean had been ripped from him and dragged into the water. His throat still hurt from the ragged cry of Dean's name that he had screamed over and over. Jumping into the cold water, Castiel would never forget seeing Dean motionless, not appearing to fight it at all as he sank further down. Not until that moment when Dean had run out of air and gasped, a soundless scream that Castiel knew he'd be seeing in his dreams for a long time to come.

Castiel had a deeper understanding and respect for what Dean had gone through now, with the Howland case and all Cas wanted was to go home. He wanted to curl up with Dean in their bed, with the smell of the sea drifting through their open windows, and the comforting lullaby of waves lapping at the shore. The small hint of guilt for not wanting to stay and help whatever spirits were here was a drop in the ocean compared with his desire to keep Dean safe. As though sensing his thoughts, Dean, sitting on the hope chest at the foot of the bed, paused and raised his head in the action of unlacing his boots. Dean sent Cas a wink and blew him a kiss. Castiel swallowed against the tightness of his throat at the teasing gesture that was _oh, so_ Dean.

"We could get a fire going for you?" Rowena's musical voice broke through the quiet staring contest Dean and Castiel were having.

"Um, yeah, I'm gonna say no to the fire. With my luck, the drapes would catch," Dean said, a weak joke at best.

Charlie and Kevin came bounding in next, laying clothes out on the wide four-poster bed.

"Here, guys, we found these. I know they're a little old fashioned, but it's the only thing that was close to your size. Those are yours," Charlie told Dean, pointing to the more elegant of the choices.

Dean snorted as he picked up the dark suit pants and cap. "Old-fashioned? I'm gonna look like a cast member from _Newsies_. How come Cas gets the jeans?" 

The pout in Dean's voice did much to buoy Cas' spirits; if Dean was feeling well enough to bitch about clothing, then he probably wasn't internally freaking out the way Cas had been.

"Cuz, no offense? You don't have the thighs to fill out those jeans," Kevin remarked, and Castiel felt uncomfortable when four sets of eyes settled on the lower half of his body, studying him with appreciative expressions.

"Alright, that's enough, that's enough," Dean sprang in front of Cas, waving his hands. "Stop ogling my fiance and let us get changed."

Charlie giggled, then quickly threw her arms around Dean's neck. "I'm glad you're okay," she said, kissing his cheek. Castiel sent her a soft smile when she paused to wave at him on the way out the door.

Once the heavy wooden door closed behind them, Dean stalked over to where Castiel stood and pushed his fingers through Cas' hair, making it stand up on end. His fingers then traveled down the front of Castiel's damp tee-shirt to dip under the hem and grasp the material. Without words, Castiel lifted his arms and allowed the shirt to be pulled up and off of his body. When Dean's fingers settled on the fly of his jeans, he offered Cas a shrug that said _eh, well._

"You do have fantastic thighs," Dean admitted with a grin, and Castiel rolled his eyes, taking a step back with a laugh.

"No. No distracting me. We have to talk about what happened," Castiel said firmly, refusing to break when Dean's lower lip poked out adorably. "Now, get dressed in your 1920's cosplay," Castiel teased to lighten the mood.

Dean stuck out his tongue, but he didn't argue. Instead, he stripped down to nothing, griping about having to put his bare junk in unfamiliar pants. Castiel snickered, even as he carefully eased the zipper of his jeans over his own naked ass. He followed Dean over to the bed once they'd both dressed, and Dean propped himself against the headboard in his new-old suit, knees raised and bare feet planted on the mattress. Castiel crawled up next to him, mimicking the pose as they sat shoulder to shoulder. For a while, they just sat there. Castiel took Dean's closest hand in his own, lacing the fingers and resting them on his jean-clad knee.

"I knew something was gonna happen," Dean said quietly. "Like, as soon as I stepped on the bridge. Everything was heavy, you know?"

Castiel nodded. He did know. It was the same syrupy weight he'd felt since being on the property, hard to strip off, clinging to his entire being.

"We were walking," Dean continued, shaking his head, then met Castiel's gaze head-on," and this hand… so cold… just grabbed my ankle and yanked. There was nothing I could do. I couldn't move, I couldn't fight. It was like I'd turned to stone."

Castiel rubbed Dean's knuckle with his thumb, as he listened, schooling his features to hide the terror that threatened to climb up his throat at Dean's words.

"I could hear you jump in; I could see the ripple in the water. Eventually, I opened my mouth, my body just...it was reflex. I was choking, but then you pulled me out," Dean knocked his knee against Castiel's. "You saved my life, man," Dean said, voice soft and awed. 

"Yes, well," Castiel replied, "kind of hard to get married if the groom is…" Castiel trailed off, not wanting to think about it, and he closed his eyes when Dean pressed a kiss to his temple.

"I'm fine. And I am so sorry. I know this probably brought up some rough memories of Balthazar."

Balthazar, Castiel's brother who had drowned, and then stuck around anyway to make sure Castiel was okay. The truth is, Balthazar hadn't crossed his mind, at least not his death. Castiel was too focused on Dean.

"Please don't apologize, Dean. None of this is your fault," Castiel promised, and Dean kissed his cheek.

"S'not your fault either," Dean murmured against Castiel's ears. Dean may believe that, but Castiel felt guilty all the same. It was his gift and desire to use it that had brought them here in the first place.

"Do you remember anything else? Did you see anything else?" Castiel asked, and Dean began to shake his head, then he stopped, brows furrowed,

"Actually, yes. There was this voice. Kind of… I don't know, echoey? Soft? She said-"

"She?" Castiel asked sharply, and Dean nodded, regarding him thoughtfully.

"Yeah, she. She said: _I'm_ _sorry. But he needs to be weak_. What do you think that means?"

Castiel didn't have to think. He knew. "Me. She meant me. Whoever is hiding, they want me weak, and what better way to make me so than going after you?" his voice broke on the last word, and Dean's arms went around Castiel, drawing him in tight to his chest as Castiel let out shuddering breaths as he focused on the sound of Dean's strong and steady heartbeat. 

"Well, good luck to them," Dean said softly. "Because you're the strongest person I know, and we are going to be on guard, right?" Dean lifted Cas' chin with one finger, green eyes filled with warmth and confidence, and Castiel smiled, gratefully.

"Right. I'm not going to let anyone hurt you, Dean."

"I know. Same goes, sunshine," Dean reassured him, then let out a large yawn. "God, why am I so tired?"

"Almost drowning will do that to you," Castiel said dryly. "Close your eyes, rest a bit. I'll watch over you."

Dean settled his head against Castiel's shoulder. "S'little creepy," he teased sleepily, "but I'll allow it."

Castiel didn't mean to doze and assumed the stress of the whole day would keep him wide awake, but eventually, his eyes slipped shut, and when they did, he dreamed.

* * *

The door to the bedroom was ajar. Castiel looked down and saw that he stood barefoot on the hardwood floors, yet he couldn't feel the wood beneath his feet. Swiveling around, he saw himself; him and Dean slouched together, Castiel's face snug in the crook of Dean's neck, while Dean's was buried in Castiel's wild hair. Their chests rose and fell as they slumbered. 

He was having a vision. 

Soundlessly, Castiel traveled out the door. Everything was dimmer, quieter. He glided along the lantern-lit corridor, through the shadows cast by the moonlight. He paused at the top of the staircase, noting the image of Anna, poised at the window. When she turned towards him, her expression was vacant. She wasn't even aware he was there. As he suspected, Anna was nothing more than a residual ghost, an imprint of a memory. Castiel joined her at the window, and he inhaled sharply when the woman by the water met his gaze head-on.

Castiel began to run down the stairs, no noise sounding from the pounding of his feet, only silence. When he burst outside, fading right through the door and onto the grounds, she was gone.

"Show yourself," he demanded, voice gritty like sandpaper. "If you think you can take what's mine, you are sorely mistaken. Show yourself!" this time, he shouted, loud in the stillness of the night. Castiel was done playing.

"Shhh," came a soft voice, shaky with fear. "He'll hear you."

Castiel whirled around and found himself face to face with the ghostly woman. Up close, she was even more frightening. Nearly translucent, her hair still managed to look dank and oily, hanging in lifeless clumps around her nightgown clad shoulders. The hint of purple bruises was shadowed beneath her eyes and bespoke of exhaustion, but more than anything, she just looked wretchedly sad.

"Who?" Castiel asked, cautiously, but when he blinked, she was gone. Looking around, he saw her again crouched between a few trees. He made his way to her, slowly, and he saw her wringing her hands.

"You're Leticia Gore, aren't you?" he questioned softly, and the apparition nodded, translucent tears beginning to drip down her sallow cheeks.

"I'm sorry," she said. "I'm so sorry. I had no choice! He said he won't bring me to them if I don't help."

"Who won't?" Castiel asked, but Leticia only shook her head.

"If I don't distract you, I'll never see them again," she cried.

"Leticia," he began gently, "He's using you. Your children aren't here."

"No, they are. He's keeping them trapped."

"No. They moved on long ago. You don't have to listen to him, okay? You don't have to follow his rules. Do you see a light?"

"I used to," she said. "It was bright and beautiful, but I couldn't find my boys," she sobbed, and Castiel felt a wave of sympathy, despite her actions.

"Because they were already there, Leticia. They were waiting for you. Look around you. Try to block the fear for a moment and look. The light should be there. He's using your fear to block it."

Castiel could tell the moment she saw it. Her shining eyes widened, and a gasp escaped her ghostly lips. 

"I see it. God, I see it! I can hear them," her hands came up to her face as a euphoric little laugh escaped her. "They've been waiting for me."

Castiel nodded. "Yes, they have."

Leticia stepped towards the light that only she could see, pausing to look at him. "Be careful. He's angry. He wants to be alive again, but he needs someone strong, healthy enough to host him. And weak enough to let him," her words drifted away as with one more step, she was gone.

A puzzling juxtaposition. A person healthy in body and weak in spirit. The way Castiel would be if anything happened to Dean. Vulnerable to the point where he wouldn't care what happened to his body if Dean was gone. 

Castiel came to, with a gasp, jostling Dean, but not waking him. He was glad, not ready to divulge what he'd just been through, not prepared to acknowledge out loud to Dean that a spirit was out to get him, _them;_ especially when they couldn't even leave the property.

"It's fine," Castiel murmured to himself. "It's going to be fine." Castiel allowed himself to hold Dean a little longer, knowing that he would have to rouse him soon. Safety in numbers, plus he wanted to update Sam and Gabriel on what was truly going on. It wasn't until Dean blinked up at him, smiling lazily, asking if he was ready to join the others that Castiel realized that Leticia never told him who it was that wanted Castiel weak, and he was afraid she didn't have to. The very idea of being possessed by Lucifer Morningstar had his heart galloping painfully in his chest. Castiel pushed back his fear and smiled back, refusing to give in to it. 

"Yes, Dean, I'm ready."

Castiel rolled his eyes when Dean playfully tugged on the Newsboy cap and winked at him. Of course, Castiel was unable to deny that Dean, as usual, looked like a runway model, no matter the apparel he wore.

After tugging on the complimentary slippers Rowena had left them, they joined the others in the main lobby. Smiles of relief met them, especially from Sam, who embraced Dean hard. Dean rolled his eyes, patting Sam on the shoulders.

"I'm fine, Sammy, relax."

"Any word on when the road will be open?" Castiel asked, and Rowena shook her head sadly.

"Nothing yet. Billie will let me know as soon as it's open, though."

"Sounds good," Dean offered, "but I'm not sure what difference it will make if this ghost or whatever can just pluck anyone off the bridge like that. What if it happens again?"

Castiel cleared his throat, "It's not going to happen again."

"How do you know, Cas?" Sam said, and Gabriel cocked his head.

"Yeah, bro, share with the class, please?"

Everyone stared at Castiel, and he shot Dean a guilty look and sighed, moving to sit on one of the padded benches against the wall. 

"Cas?" Dean urged, and Castiel sat up straight, eyes only for Dean.

"I had a vision."


	7. Chapter 7

Dean was cold. And he meant goosebumps, stiff-fingered, teeth-chattering cold. It had been creeping on him slowly since leaving their cozy room in the _Amityville Horror_ house they seemed to be stuck in. At least for the time being. He didn't want to say anything to Castiel, because his future husband was already looking at him with anxious, worried speculation in his expressive blue eyes. Although judging by the guilty way Cas was looking at Dean now, perhaps it was he who should be worried.

"Cas?" Dean prompted, and Castiel sighed from his seat, resting his elbows on his knees.

"I had a vision." 

"What? When?" Dean wanted to walk over, wanted to place his hand on Castiel's shoulder, to touch him comfortingly, but he couldn't move. Instead, Dean slumped on the bottom step of the staircase, feeling edgy and tired. He fidgeted, tugging at the sleeves of his uncomfortable new wardrobe. They felt wrong on his skin, and he wished for his jeans and flannel. _Would you stop squirming?_ It was a whisper in his head, and Dean gave a full-body shudder. He wanted out of this fucking house. It was messing with his head in the worst way. The last thing he wanted was it sinking it's teeth into Castiel. That was a nightmare Dean never wanted to go through ever again.

Castiel stood up abruptly, as though sitting still was just too much. "I don't know what you expect to film here, Gabriel," Castiel said impatiently, turning towards his brother. "It won't be what you expect," Castiel warned, sharply.

Sam snorted. "Yeah, that ship sailed the moment something went after my brother," Sam said with a solemn nod at Dean. "We already packed everything up. Kevin and Charlie are making the last trip to the van as we speak."

Gabriel scowled when Castiel raised a brow in surprise. "Jesus, fuck, Cassie, he's my family, too. Do you honestly think I expect you to _Ghost Whisperer_ some psycho spirit when it puts Dean in danger? Especially after the Howland case?" Gabriel shook his head, hurt evident in his tone. "I don't care how hot the client is, Castiel, give me some credit."

A shadow of remorse passed over Cas' features, but Dean felt remarkably removed. Dean observed Rowena; She was pacing, cell phone to her ear as she listened to whoever was on the line. He vaguely wondered how the woman felt about all of this, though truthfully, he didn't really care. If anything, he felt almost bored. What was wrong with him?

"The thing is, she wasn't a ' _psycho,"_ Castiel air quoted, the endearing gesture piercing through Dean's weird fog of apathy. "She was a mother. A mother who was being used by a very dark spirit. It's here, hiding like a coward in this Manor." There was obvious loathing in Castiel's voice when he spoke, and Dean's stomach twisted, offended, which was baffling. It wasn't as though Dean disagreed. Whoever this ghost was, he was a prick, and given the history of the place, most likely, a murderer.

"Leticia Gore," Cas continued, "was stuck here. She believed her children were here," Castiel's eyes settled on Dean's again. "Letecia was forced to do what she did to you, under the threat that she would never see her boys again," there was was a waver in Castiel's voice, but his eyes remained dry and stoic. Again, Dean wanted to go to his fiance, and still, his limbs wouldn't carry him. He felt stuck. Reminiscent of the way he'd felt trapped in the moat. Dean's heart began to hammer in his chest, and he opened his mouth to speak, only no sound would escape. He felt wrong. _Wrong, wrong, wrong._

"Are they here, Cas?" Sam asked, and Castiel shook his head. 

"No. The children more than likely moved on right away. And now that I've crossed Leticia over, she can be at peace with them."

An unexpected surge of anger stirred through Dean so fast he gasped with it, and all eyes fell on him. "Dean? You okay?" Sam's worried voice was like a buzzing gnat, and Dean found himself glaring at his brother, though his sudden fury was directed at Cas.

"Some Casper bitch tries to off me, and you cross her over?" is what finally burst out of Dean, and he immediately wished he could take it back. The heartbroken look on Castiel's face was like a punch in the gut. A sinister laugh echoed in his head, and Dean felt sick; like there was oil coating his throat, and he couldn't cough it up. Dean was like a puppet, emotional strings being pulled this way and that, at someone's amused whims _._ Dean knew that if Castiel helped this woman to the other side, it was the right thing to do. Reuniting a lost, tortured mother with her children? Dean could think of no better reason than that. This wasn't a betrayal. This was Castiel, and his kind heart, giving someone peace in the only way he knew how. Dean knew that, logically, but all he felt was irrational fury. _He chose her over you. Your perfect lover. He should have left her to pine away after what she did to you._ The vile thoughts danced around his head amidst the maniacal laughter, and he knew they weren't his own. Dean was being toyed with. 

"Dean, please," Castiel implored, coming to stand before Dean at the base of the stairs. Head tilted as Cas looked down at him, his stormy blue gaze searing into Dean's, and he wondered if Castiel could see his internal struggle in his own green depths. Could Castiel see that his voice was trapped? _See me, Cas!_

"Do you think I wasn't furious? That I didn't want to punish her from trying to take you away from me?" Castiel crouched down in front of him, and Dean could see the truth of his words in the sincerity of his pleading eyes. "I wanted to kill her myself," Castiel said, voice rough and raw. "I wanted her to suffer, but Dean, she was being used."

Castiel's face was growing ever more desolate by Dean's lack of response. It wasn't that he didn't want to speak. He just _couldn't_. Dean felt his jaw twitch, and his brow arched, out of his control. W _ho are you, you son of a bitch?_ Dean screamed the question in his head, getting a rumbling laugh in reply.

_You are strong, Dean, but you need to stop fighting me._

"By who? Lucifer?" Dean heard Gabriel ask, and when Castiel answered, his eyes didn't leave Dean's face.

"I don't know," Castiel murmured, locked in a staring contest with Dean, his blue eyes wide with apprehension. "I haven't seen him. But I know they're here. I can feel them. So much anger," Castiel's brow furrowed. "And pain."

Dean couldn't take his eyes off of Cas, caught in an immovable bubble. He wanted to launch himself into Castiel's arms, yet every attempt he made was like hitting a brick wall. He wanted to cry for help, but Dean was frozen. He was a meat suit. Chilling laughter echoed in Dean's head that had anxiety rising steadily inside of him; if he had control of his body, Dean was sure he'd be hyperventilating by now. Dean felt like he was vibrating from the inside out. He needed to focus. _Concentrate, Dean_ , he told himself. _Just get the fucking words out._

"Cas," Dean's voice trembled when he spoke, the very effort of it staggering, and his fiance's breath hitched at the unsteady sound of Dean's voice. "Cas, something's wrong. I feel-someone-"

"Good news!" Rowena's lilting voice burst through the tension surrounding them, rocking on her skinny heels as she grasped her cell phone. "The road is clear. As much as I'd love you to stay and figure this all out, you're free to go."

When Dean tried to speak again, there was nothing. His mouth opened and closed soundlessly.

Sam let out a sigh of relief, and Gabriel clapped him on the back. "We're sorry, Rowena," Sam said with a smile at Dean. _Sammy! Sammy, I'm not okay-_ "but my brother's safety comes first."

"Of course, Dearie," Rowena sighed. "I'm going to have to write this place off as a loss, aren't I" she sounded incredibly sad. Dean heard the words, but now it was through a veil. 

"Dean, look at me, baby," Castiel said quietly, ignoring Sam and Rowena's muted conversation as they walked towards the entrance where Gabriel was tapping on his phone.

Dean felt tears spring to eyes, and a whimper escaped before he _finally_ managed to push out a torrent of words.

"Cas, he's got me. Sunshine, please," the panic in Dean's voice was mirrored on Castiel's face now. "I... I can't." It was too hard. It was like someone was strangling him, yet his body was still breathing. Castiel grasped Dean's hands, but he couldn't feel it. Dean could see them entwined, the long, tender fingers of his love, interwoven with his own, but it was like looking at a hologram. 

"Dean?" Castiel's distress and fear saturated his voice, and Dean wanted to soothe, but he was too lost. "Dean, who has you?"

"Guys? "Gabriel yelled from the open doorway, oblivious to the current turmoil. "Let's go. I texted Charlie and Kevin, and they're waiting for us. Rowena's coming with us. Don't argue," Gabriel said to the tiny redhead.

Castiel tugged on Dean's hands. "Come on, Dean, let's get out of here. You'll feel better once we leave, I promise."

Dean fought to rise on shaky limbs, and let himself be dragged towards the door.

_Don't do it, Dean. If you leave I will follow. We're connected now._

A loud bang sounded as the front door suddenly slammed shut, causing Gabriel to yelp as he jumped back. Dean was shocked to see that he had yanked his hands from Castiel's and held them outstretched towards the door. _He'd done that._ Holy shit, somehow Dean had trapped them inside the Morningstar Murder house.

_You're not going anywhere._

"Enough with the goddamn whispering," Dean managed to say to the phantom in his head, and Castiel cupped his face. 

_If you don't let me in, your lover will pay._

"Dean, what's going on. Baby, please. What are you feeling?"

To his horror, a dark chuckle escaped Dean's lips; only he wasn't the one laughing.

"Dean! Look at me," Cas' tone was commanding, but that didn't seem to matter to whatever it was that had taken hold of him. Dean understood now. He was merely along for the ride. "Dean, are you in there?"

With dawning horror, Dean felt a wicked smirk curl at his lips as he rose from the steps, breaking Castiel's grip on his hands. 

_I will make him like me_ , the voice warned. Dean couldn't have that. Never again.

"I'm sorry," Dean heard his voice dripping with pity as he looked down at the love of his life. "Dean's not home right now. Please leave a message."

Castiel paled and stood up, quickly, crowding into Dean's space. "Who are you?" he gritted out, danger in his gravel-laced voice. Dean heard himself answer. 

"Who am I? That is the question of the day, isn't it? I know what you're thinking," The slow pattern of speech was eerie to hear coming out of his mouth. "Lucifer," Dean's voice sneered. "But no. I'm not him. I'm the other one. The better one," Dean glanced up the staircase, eyes settling on that family portrait. Black was starting to filter around the edges of his vision and Dean fought to stay present. 

"Cas, what's going on?" Sammy sounded scared. _That's okay, little brother_ , Dean thought hysterically. Dean was pretty fucking petrified too.

"Michael," Castiel whispered brokenly, and it was the last thing Dean heard as his mind began to shut down. " Dean's possessed by Michael."

  
  



	8. Chapter 8

“Michael,” Castiel could barely say the words. “Dean’s possessed by Michael.”

Dean- _Michael-_ sauntered around, tugging on the hem of his jacket. 

“I hate the word possessed. It sounds so crude,” Castiel watched as Michael eyed Rowena up and down, winking at her suggestively. “Thanks for the suit. ”

A growl rose in Castiel’s throat, and Michael turned Dean’s green-grass eyes on him, radiating amusement and derision.

“You know, I thought I needed you. I could sense your power the moment you walked through my doors.”

“Needed me for what? Why are you doing this?” Castiel asked. 

Michael kept talking, as though Castiel hadn’t spoken. 

“Someone like you, so in tune with the spirit world. A conduit. So I thought, how could I make you weak?” he tapped his lips in mock contemplation. “How could I get you to let your guard down. And then it came to me, “ Michael said dramatically, sweeping off his hat and using it to gesture at Dean’s body lewdly. 

Castiel forced himself to appear unaffected.

”He was the answer. This man you look at with such blatant want and need. I knew if I came after him, you would be distracted, and I could slip you on like a bespoke suit’,” he drawled, affecting a lofty tone, so unlike Dean, Castiel’s stomach hurt.

Michael tipped his head forward, as though about to reveal a tantalizing piece of gossip.“Do you want to know why I took him instead of you? He was so worried about his lover that he was like an open door,” Michael twisted Dean’s lips into a cunning smirk. “And I just walked right through. He could be as strong as you if he wanted to. If he would accept it. His intuition is strong. “ Michael strolled over to the mirror above the fireplace mantle, adjusting his tie. “This face is pretty,” he said, as he admired himself in the mirror. “It’s what most people see. He underestimates his worth to you, you know. “

“What do you mean?” Castiel snarled. There was nothing on earth worth more to Castiel than Dean. 

Michael let out a laugh. “Well, why do you think I’m here? I needed his permission, of course. A man like him wouldn’t stay docile for long. Eventually, he’d kick me out. No, I needed him to believe it was either him or you. “

Dawning horror swept over Castiel as he realized that Dean had offered himself. 

“When he realized that,” Michael smiled widely, “it made it much easier to give in.”

Sam, apparently over his momentary shock, strode right up to Michael and shoved him against the wall, making the painting next to it rattle.

“Sam-” Castiel called out, Gabriel rushing forward as well.

“What do you want with my brother? Why did you want either of them in the first place?” Sam pleaded for an answer, but as Michael caught Castiel’s eye, he knew. The glee on Michael’s face as his back hit the wall, the slow, menacing laugh that rumbled out, despite Sam's forearm against his windpipe, only confirmed it. _Feeling_ , even if it was pain. Michael wanted to live again. He didn’t just want to scare people out of his home. He didn’t want privacy or peace. No, Michael wanted to be flesh and blood, and he saw Dean as his ticket.

“You want to know why am I here instead of singing with the angels? ” Michael abruptly shoved off Sam’s arm, a surprising show of strength that had Castiel’s future brother-in-law stumbling. “Well, then, gather round, children, and let me tell you a story.” 

Of course, no one moved. As though frozen in place, they all stood in a tense circle as Michael paced around in Dean’s body. On his third pass, he stepped in front of Castiel.

“You thought I was Lucifer.” It was a statement, not a question. 

“I had assumed. But he’s not here at all, is he?” Castiel cocked his head and observed as Michael stood with him nearly toe to toe. Castiel searched pools of green for any recognition. A flash. Anything that said his beloved was aware.

“Ha! My twisted brother and my vindictive whore of a wife met the fires of hell immediately. Sucked down through the cracks of the floorboards, right in front of me, flames licking at their ankles as they screamed.”

“Michael, what happened? Why didn’t you move on like Anna?” Castiel asked.

“Death was a relief for Anna,” Michael spat out. “Living with Lucifer was like a slow, painful disease. She never spoke of what he did to her, but Anna’s eyes spoke volumes. I remember telling her, she could leave, I would give her money, and she could run away, but she never did.”

For a moment, Michael seemed softer, but it lasted just that, a moment, before he was back to condescending,

“The estate should have been left to me. I am the one who took care of it. In hindsight, I think that was why Ruby married me. Thought she would be the lady of the manor. Instead, it was left to Lucifer, though he so _graciously_ allowed us to stay. And not long after, I found I was being betrayed by both my brother _and_ my wife.”

“I sense hanky panky,” Gabriel muttered, and Michael laughed, bitterly.

“They’d become lovers, and Anna and I were in the way. “

“So, they poisoned you.” 

“Venison stew. Rich and gamey enough to hide an off-flavor. I watched as they dragged our bodies out to the barn and set it on fire.”

“And the children?” Castiel demanded. “Did he care nothing for them?”

Michael shrugged. “He didn’t know they were in there. That would have required Lucifer to care enough about the servants enough to know their routines or schedules. They often slept out in the barn with Alfie- _Samandriel_ ,” he heaved a heavy sigh. “Sloppy. And before you ask, Leticia never stood a chance. Lucifer strangled her and threw her in the moat before she could even set foot on the bridge.”

It wasn't anything Castiel didn’t already know, but hearing it so carelessly spoken, and in Dean’s rich baritone too, was disturbing.

“I think that was what got Ruby, in the end. Seeing his cavalierness with the death of the children, the way he didn’t hesitate to snuff out Leticia; it made her realize how easily that could be her,” Michael smiled darkly. “She was right to be afraid because even as she poisoned his whiskey, he poisoned her wine. And I just watched and waited to confront them, only to have that stolen from me by the pits of hell.”

“I still don’t understand. Why didn’t you move on?” Castiel asked again, and Michael pinned him with a glare.

“Move on? To where? Heaven? With the angels? To reunite with the father who stabbed me in the back? Or with the mother who wouldn’t know affection if it walked up and said hello? No. This is my home; this is where I belong. I finally feel alive, and if you think I am giving that up for some bright white light, then maybe _you’re_ just the pretty one.”

“If you think I’m just going to let you walk around wearing my fiance, you’re sadly mistaken.”

Surprised, Michael’s jaw dropped. “I must have been slumbering for some time if this is a time when men may love other men openly,” he lifted a hand, laying the palm on Castiel’s chest. “Here I was, thinking you and he were just in a clandestine relationship,” Michael mock whispered before laughing.

Castiel gripped Michael’s wrist- _Dean’s_ wrist and squeezed at the pulse point. “Baby, listen, I know you’re in there. You have to tell him to leave. Kick him out, Dean.” 

“That’s not going to work. Your lover is feeling quite peaceful right now. He’s too far away to fall for those big blue eyes.”

The condescending tone put his back up, as it always did with anyone who wasn’t Balthazar. That haughty tone had only really worked for his brother. Castiel did know that Balthazar would tell him to put this body snatcher in his place and get his future husband back. 

“You don’t know him, Michael," Castiel continued, focusing on mossy green eyes with flecks of gold, waiting for that spark. "You have no idea how strong he is. Dean, you have to expel him; he can’t hurt me. No matter what he said to you, I promise. Just come back, Dean.”

“He doesn’t want to come back!” Michael bellowed, yanking his wrist from Castiel’s grip. “He likes not worrying all the time! He likes not being afraid.”

“There’s nothing to be afraid of. You hear me, Dean?” Castiel pleaded, needing Dean to hear him and come back. His blood ran like ice through his veins, and every time he ever accused Dean of being overprotective flashed through his mind. God, he’d had no clue.

“Even if you could force me out, what do you think I’d leave behind, hmmm?” 

The very implication was devastating, and Castiel felt his knees begin to buckle.

“Dean. Dean, baby, please,” Castiel could hear his voice break as he staggered forward, latching onto Dean’s shoulder, and for just a moment, he was there.

“It’s gonna be okay, Cas,” Dean’s voice was thready. “Sammy,” Dean's eyes shifted to Sam’s face as he looked at his brother. “Do it, Sammy, just like we talked about.” 

_Do what?_

But then Castiel knew, even before Sam opened his mouth and began reciting:

 _"Exorcizamus te, Omnis immundus spiritus,”_ the words made Michael snarl.

It was the exorcism that Dean insisted everyone learn after Howland House. The one Castiel had rolled his eyes and teased him about.

 _“Omnis satanica potestas, omnis incursio infernalis adversarii, omnis legio,”_ Sam continued, standing firm when Michael lunged, panting and growling, and trying to shrug off Castiel’s grip as he did so. Instead, Castiel only held him tighter, pulling him back to chest, joining in with Sam for the rest.

_“Omnis congregatio et secta diabolica, ergo draco maledicte, ut ecclesiam tuam secura, tibi facias libertate servire, te rogamus, audi nos!"_

Castiel could feel Dean’s body quaking against him. “It’s over, Dean. Come back to me now,” Castiel murmured against the shell of Dean’s ear, but there was no response. Then, like cutting the strings to a puppet, Dean collapsed to the hard floor, taking Castiel with him.

  
  
  
  



	9. Chapter 9

The sun was warm on Dean’s face as he listened to the waves crash on the sand. He found it hypnotic, watching the swell of the water, the way it sparkled, seemingly endless. Dean matched his breath in time with the movement. In. Hold. Out. _Rise, swell, crash._ He knew he was supposed to be doing something else, but thoughts were like the sand slipping through his fingers as he sat on the beach. 

Dean smiled as he saw two cats tussle playfully in front of him. They paid him no notice, and in a blink, they were gone. It should have been odd, but like everything else, the thought melted away like the water receding back to the ocean. It was tranquil and familiar, and it startled Dean when he saw someone suddenly jog past him.

“Hey,” Dean said, jumping up and immediately feeling dizzy. He brushed the sand from his jeans as he watched the man just kept moving. Dean followed after. “I said, hey!”

The man paused, turning back towards Dean. There was a smirk on his face, familiar, and Dean stepped forward until they faced each other. 

“You did. Twice,” The man said, patting Dean on the shoulder. “Good for you. “ he was older than Dean and blonde. “I wondered if I was going to have to jog by again.”

Dean cocked his head. “There’s a pick-up line in there somewhere, v-neck, but I’m feeling kind of spacy. “

“Hey, my brother bought me this shirt,” the man said, fingering the dark material, pouting, but Dean’s patience was running out. 

“Who are you? How do I know you?” There was a slight panic in Dean’s voice, and he tried to push it down. The salty breeze tousled his hair, and the water seemed to shimmer even brighter, enough for Dean’s eyes to sting with tears. What was he doing here again? His mind felt blank. There’d been a reason. A plan. What was his plan?

“You’re just lost. Let’s try and jog your memory. “

Dean nodded. “Yeah. Yeah, okay,” Though a stranger, the man felt safe. And Dean needed help. Why was he here on this beach? 

“Look around, Dean. What do you see?”

Did he say his name was Dean? No, but it didn’t stop him from looking around anyway. He knew this stretch of sand. He turned full circle and came face to face with a beautiful beach house with a wide, welcoming porch. The two cats from earlier lounged on the steps. _Salty and Aslan._

 _Castiel_. This was Cas’ beach. Dean sucked in air with a gasp, and Dean grasped the hand that reached out for him like a lifeline.

“There you go, it’s coming back,” the blond-haired man murmured, and all at once, Dean knew who it was.

“Balthazar,” Dean breathed out.

“That’s right. What’s going on, Dean? I moved on because I thought Cassie was safe with you. I know you’re stronger than this,” Balthazar said, censure in his cultured tone.

“No. No, no, no. I’m not giving in,” Dean shook his head, clearing the cobwebs as he remembered what he was doing. _Michael_. _Cas_. _The plan_. “It wasn’t like that. I mean, yes, I let him take over, but that was just so Cas could talk to the dude. Michael was gonna body snatch Cas, and I couldn't’ watch that again, Balthazar, I couldn’t. I figured if I gave in, Cas would work his ghost whisperer magic and cross the guy over. I don’t know how I forgot? “ Dean said, distracted when he felt something bump against his leg. Dean bent down to scratch at Salty’s head when the cat began to circle Dean’s ankles.

Balthazar looked around, almost nervously. “He’s angry and strong. Those who die angry and don’t move on? It eats them up, turns them into something… other.”

Dean straightened and nodded in agreement. “I’ve been doing a lot of research, ever since what happened at the Howland House. Stuff Cas doesn’t even know about,” Dean raked a hand through his hair. “ I just worry, and I wanted to be prepared.”

Balthazar snorted. “Well, do you have a plan for this? Because It’s only his distraction with feeling corporeal that has me slipping in here undetected.”

Dean smirked. “I do, actually. But I need my brother. I need to break through long enough to talk to Sammy.”

Dean found himself slowly walking up the steps to his and Cas’ home. He entered through the doors that led to the kitchen. Though Dean knew it was only in his head, he trailed his fingers over the yellow coffee mug left on the counter. He eyed the pictures of him and Cas stuck on the refrigerator and smiled, sappily.

“Dean, focus,” Balthazar said, and Dean squared his shoulders. His brother-in-law was right; he was getting lost in the familiar. It was how he wound up on the beach in the first place.

“Okay. Okay, I can do this,” Dean said, making his way into the living room and standing in the center. Dean took a deep breath and closed his eyes. At first, there was nothing. Then, he could hear them. Voices. Muffled, like he was listening underwater. Dean blinked his eyes, and it was like looking through a greasy film. Blurry. He squinted, blinking again and again until his vision cleared. A flash of anger and panic let Dean know that his possessor knew he was awake.

_"Even if you could force me out, what do you think I’d leave behind, hmm?"_

Dean could see the way the words devastated Castiel even as he stood, strong and defensive, no doubt ready to knock Dean out if necessary. “Fuck, I love him,” Dean muttered to himself, words dripping with pride.

 _“Dean. Dean, baby, please,”_ Cas’ words, his voice a pained whine, broke Dean’s heart.

"Do you have this, Dean?" Dean looked at Balthazar and nodded as to say _I got this_ and began to push his way to the surface. 

Blocking Michael out, Dean’s eyes-caught and locked on ocean-blue for a charged moment. “It’s gonna be okay, Cas,” Dean’s voice was ravaged as he fought to keep Michael at bay. He just needed to stay in control. _My mind, my rules. I got him. I’m the cage._ Dean pep-talked himself. 

Tearing his gaze from his fiance’s terrified face, Dean searched out his brother. Fighting through what felt like the world's most epic migraine, with shards of glass in his throat, Dean screamed: "Do it, Sammy, just like we talked about."

 _“Exorcizamus te, Omnis immundus spiritus,_ ” his brother’s words had Dean’s guts twisting in pain as Michael raged inside of him. Dean felt Castiel’s arms wrap around him even as he shook like a pinned-down leaf in a storm.

 _“Omnis satanica potestas, omnis incursio infernalis adversarii, omnis legio,”_ Sam continued, and Dean grit his teeth through the fire racing through his veins as he chanted along with Sammy.

 _“Omnis congregatio et secta diabolica, ergo draco maledicte, ut ecclesiam tuam secura, tibi facias libertate servire, te rogamus, audi nos!_ " Vision-whitening light flared up and a high-pitched sound that made Dean wonder if his ears were bleeding built to a crescendo. The pressure was building until just as he thought it was going to pop, it did, like a punctured balloon; With a rush of air, the sudden silence was as deafening as the noise had been, and it was a relief to collapse into nothingness.

* * *

When Dean woke, he was on he and Castiel's hotel bed. He stared at the textured ceiling, head feeling heavy. At the quiet murmuring of Cas’ voice, Dean turned his head on the pillow. Castiel sat on the side of the bed, talking quietly into the phone. His back was facing Dean, but his free hand was settled on Dean’s knee.

“Cas,” Dean said, sluggishly and his fiance’s gaze flashed to his immediately.

“Gabriel, Dean’s awake. I’ll call you later," The cell phone careless slipped from Castiel's fingers onto the bed.

“Dean,” Castiel breathed out, a relieved smile breaking out over his face. Dean could see the sheen of tears in his eyes, and he felt awful for having scared Cas enough to make him cry. “How are you feeling?”

“Hungover,” Dean said, allowing Castiel to help him sit up against the headboard. He smiled gratefully when Castiel handed him an open bottle of water.

“Little sips,” Castiel said, “I don’t want you to get sick,” Castiel warned, and Dean rolled his eyes, but only for form.

“How the hell did I get here? “ Dean asked after drinking his fill. “The last thing I remember is being in the manor.”

“You passed out. Scared the fuck out of me,” Castiel said, hand reaching out to card through Dean’s hair. “Sam and I carried you to the Impala.“ 

Dean tried to picture it, Sam and Cas trying to get him from the manor to the car, and found himself laughing.

“Well, that must have been fun,” Dean teased, happy when a reluctant grinned curved Cas’ lips.

“There was more than one pie joke from Gabriel, but he stopped when I threatened to throw him in the moat.”

Dean snickered. “My hero.”

“I was going to take you to the hospital, but you woke up on the ride to tell me you were tired,” Castiel’s laugh was suspiciously wet. “You don’t remember stumbling our way down to our room?”

“No. Sorry, I missed it, though,” Dean said with a sheepish grin.

Castiel didn’t laugh; instead, he shook his head. “What were you thinking?”

Dean sighed. How did he explain? “Cas. When you were possessed at the Howland House, that was the scariest shit I’ve ever seen. There was no way I was letting that happen again. And you can get mad, and you can say you can take care of yourself, and logically, I know that it’s true. But how could I not take the opportunity to save you from that if I could?”

“By putting yourself in danger? By making me watch _you_ go through it? A lot of good it would have done me if I had lost you, Dean.” The words were fierce and steeped in love, and Dean felt so lucky to have him.

“You sound like Balthazar. I already got this lecture.”

“Balthazar was there?” The words were whisper-soft, and Dean nodded gently at Castiel. The smile he gifted Dean with was breathtaking. 

“Yeah. Yeah, Balthazar kind of helped me out, woke me up. I knew what I was doing, at first, but then it was like I got buried."

Castiel nodded in understanding because of course, he had been through this before himself.

"See, Initially, I was just trying to keep Mikey away from you long enough for you to _Chicken Soup for the Soul_ the dude, and he’d move on.”

Castiel arched a brow, unimpressed. “ _Chicken Soup for the Soul_ the dude?” he air quoted and Dean looked at him, fondly.

“Yeah, you dork. You know. Get him to talk about his feelings, blah blah blah, then skip off into the light.”

“Yes, that worked out so well,” Castiel said dryly, and Dean shrugged sheepishly.

“I’m here, aren’t I? Anyway, I had a contingency plan.”

“The exorcism.” It wasn’t a question, and Dean shot him a cocky wink and a finger gun.

“I’m sorry I teased you about it so much,” Castiel said regretfully, and Dean pulled Cas’ hands into his lap, squeezing gently.

“I’m not mad, Cas. If our situations were reversed, I'd'ave teased you too. Just seemed like if this is gonna be our lives, then we should have all the protection we can in our arsenal.”

“I agree. Especially since…” Castiel trailed off, and Dean studied him. His fiance was biting his lip, stormy blue eyes narrowed, as though debating whether to say something.

“Since what, Cas?” 

Castiel sighed, heavily. “Since I believe you are a sensitive.”

When Dean only continued to stare, Castiel continued. “Not in the same way I am, obviously. More like higher intuition. I could teach you to hone your skills-”

“Nope,” Dean interrupted loudly, popping the p, and Castiel rolled his eyes at the interruption.

“ _But_ , since I know you don’t want any part of that, I do think it is wise that we find some ways to protect ourselves. Maybe some kind of protection tattoos,” Castiel pondered, and Dean wet his lips as he pictured it.

“You’d look hot all tatted up,” Dean said, leering at Castiel, and he huffed out a laugh.

“I’m serious, Dean,” Castiel said.

“So am I, Cas,” Dean mimicked Castiel’s sandpaper and gravel timbre, earning himself a fairly hard smack on the thigh.

“Ouch. After everything I’ve been through this weekend, and now you’re gonna beat me?” Dean teased, then regretted it immediately when Cas’ eyes began to tear up. 

“Hey, hey, I was just kidding, Cas, I’m fine. Promise,” Dean stroked Castiel’s cheek as he pitched forward, laying his forehead against Dean’s.

“I’m sorry I never truly understood how scary it was for you when Hannah took me,” Castiel said with soft regret, and Dean tipped his chin up so he could brush Cas’ pillowy lips with his own, then his stubbled cheek.

“It’s okay, Cas. I never wanted you to have to feel that fear anyway. I’m sorry you did. But, at least he’s gone, now. He is, gone, isn’t he?” Dean let out a relieved breath when Castiel nodded. 

“Yes, the only thing left in the house is the imprint of Anna.”

“Well, Rowena should be happy about that,” Dean said with a grin. “She can still market the place as a haunted B&B, without the risk of drownings and possessions.”

“Yes, Gabriel and Sam agreed to stay a little longer to try and get some visual evidence of her on the grounds,” Castiel said before a wide yawn escaped. “We, on the other hand, are free to go home.”

“In the morning is soon enough,” Dean said, leaning forward to tug his shirt off. “Get undressed and come to bed,” Dean quickly stripped off his jeans and socks, leaving himself in just his underwear. Castiel quickly followed suit, and Dean didn’t make any complaints when Castiel manhandled Dean into the little spoon position.

“I love you, Dean,” Castiel murmured into his ear, arm draped tightly around Dean’s middle, making him feel safe and secure.

“Love you, too, sunshine,” Dean whispered back, before drifting off to sleep again.

The pre-dawn sky was still inky blue when they searched each other out. No words were spoken as they slid against each other, boxers pushed down around their ankles as they rutted together. Castiel groaned into Dean’s mouth when he peaked, his cum slicking the way for Dean, as they both continued to rock into the tunnel created by their laced hands. With a whimper, Dean bit Cas’ lip, and came spectacularly, pulsing between their fingers and covering Cas’ softening cock with his own seed. They shared soft kisses until the sun rose.

Dean and Castiel packed up quietly and headed down to the lobby. Sharing tender smiles and lingering touches over their continental breakfast, Dean marveled at how lucky he was, how content and full of love he felt. 

Castiel took Dean’s hand in his, a soft smile on his face as they walked to the Impala, gleaming in the sunlight.

“We’re getting married soon,” Castiel said, and Dean smiled widely, feeling giddy that this awesome, encompassing love was Dean’s for the rest of his life. The weekend’s events only went to solidify how impatient he was to start that life as soon as possible.

“Yes, we are,” Dean kissed Castiel softly against the passenger side of the car. “And everyone we love is going to be there.”

“Even the ones that we can’t see,” Castiel said wistfully, and Dean knew he was thinking of Balthazar. He gave Castiel one more kiss before going to the driver’s side. 

Dean smiled contentedly when Castiel popped in the mixtape Dean had made him, and leaned back against the seats. Matching Aviators on and fingers laced, Dean sang along with Cas, loving the rumble of the engine and they began their drive home.


	10. Epilogue

Castiel didn’t see how he could have asked for a more perfect day for a sunset wedding. On his private stretch of beach, Castiel had nearly swallowed his tongue when Dean descended the stairs of their beach house to meet him. Gabriel, his man of honor, had nudged him in the arm playfully when all Cas could mutter was "Holy fuck," at the gorgeous sight before him.

Dean's eyes had roamed over Castiel’s form, his expression both joyous and seductive, a combination that only he could pull off. They were in matching linen suits, but for the blue vest that Dean had picked out for him. It was only fair, considering Dean was sporting one in moss green that Castiel had insisted matched Dean's forest glen eyes flawlessly.

Castiel did so enjoy being right.

Their friends and family, in summer dresses and Hawaiian shirts, sat on folding chairs under a canopy, while an acoustic version of Somewhere Over the Rainbow spilled out of the open kitchen windows, carrying over the balmy breeze. Lily, Ellie, and Bobby had started tearing up before their vows were even spoken, and Sam stood by Dean, eyes shining with emotion and pride for his big brother. 

Castiel could barely remember the vows he had spoken, only the incandescently happy feeling that swelled in him at being able to claim Dean as his husband, kissing him deep and lingering in front of God and everyone else. There had been tears on both of their faces when it was done, and Castiel kissed Dean’s freckled cheeks reverently, laughing joyously when Dean mirrored the motion.

After the ceremony, there were pictures to be taken before Dean and Castiel could join the casual reception. The deck was lit with twinkle lights, and guests enjoyed the catering; grilled prawns, steak kebabs, and vegetable skewers, along with the grooms’ favorite bacon cheeseburgers. Castiel and Dean had eaten their dinner, leaning against the railing and watching their friends and family dance and hang out by the bonfire. Castiel laughed at how Salty and Aslan seemed to stalk anyone carrying a plate of food.

Dean took Cas’ paper plate from his hand and tossed it in one of the trash bins, and Castiel chuckled when Dean immediately drew him to his chest. Dean nuzzled into Cas’ neck, and his heart melted when his new husband whispered: “I’m so damn happy, Cas.” It was a simple statement, but no less meaningful as Castiel felt the same way. He was married to the love of his life, and in forty-eight hours he’d be in a private Waikiki bungalow with Dean, with nothing to do but make love, swim and dine under the stars.

“It’s going to be time to cut the cake soon,” Castiel said, “let’s go work up an appetite.”

“Um, you know I am never one to say no to sex, sunshine, but we have a house full of people and-”

Castiel rolled his eyes and dragged a laughing Dean by the hand down the porch. He pulled Dean along past the bonfire until they stood just outside of the reaching firelight, under the bright gleam of the moon. Castiel reached into his pocket and pulled out a joint.

Castiel was grateful no one sought them out, letting the two of them huddle together as they passed the weed back and forth, snickering like children doing something naughty. 

“I totally knew this was what you meant,” Dean said, voice tight with smoke.

“Sure, baby, whatever you say.” 

“I’m not gonna lie; I’m more excited about the summer lemon-berry pie Ellie made than the salted caramel cake. We should have had a cake made out of pie.”

“Salted caramel cake is delicious. And You’re ridiculous,” Castiel said, blowing out a cloud of smoke.

“You love me anyway,” Dean said, taking one last drag before the joint was too small to pinch.

“I certainly do. Come dance with me.”

* * *

Castiel and Dean weren’t the only ones dancing barefoot in the sand. Ellie and Bobby were shuffling around, and Castiel laughed as he watched Victor give Lisa a playful dip. They held each other close, hard-line against the hard-line as Dean and Castiel swayed in the moonlight and warmth of the fire to the _Sounds of Someday_. Castiel was happy to share his joy with everyone who came to partake in he and Dean’s special day, but as Dean’s fingers rubbed in little circles on his hipbones, and he pressed whisper=soft kisses to Cas' hair, Castiel couldn’t help but be eager to be alone with his husband. Funny, Castiel had assumed that the possessive feelings he had towards Dean would eventually taper off, but if anything, having a legal and spiritual claim on him only made Castiel more so.

Oh, how Balthazar would tease him. Castiel tightened his grip around Dean’s neck, rubbing his five o’clock shadow against his cheek in the way he knew made Dean shiver and sigh. A sudden glow beyond the fire had Castiel stilling his movement as a figure came into view. Castiel felt himself tearing up with happiness, and it took him a minute to realize that Dean was calling his name.

“Cas? It’s our first dance as husbands, and you’re, like, hypnotized by the fire. What’s going on?” Dean rubbed Cas’ sides as though trying to warm him up. “Wait. Wait. Are you having a Star Wars moment? _Is my dick of a dad standing over there staring at us like reformed Darth Vader_?” Dean asked in a strangled whisper, and Castiel found himself shaking with laughter. He loved stoned Dean.

“No,” Castiel reassured his husband- _his husband!_ As he locked eyes with Balthazar. His big brother smiled brightly and gave Castiel a salute before fading away.

Castiel cupped Dean’s cheeks, leaning in to kiss his pouty lips, effectively wiping the confused look off of his husband's face.

“Let’s go have cake so that these people will go home, and I can take you to bed.”

“Okay, but don’t forget the pie, too, “ Dean grinned dopily at Castiel’s words, and a wave of affection swamped him so hard that Cas couldn’t help but kiss him again.

“Of course, Dean,” Castiel assured him, smiling when he heard Lily call them over to the cake table up on the deck.

“And I’m carrying you over the threshold,” Dean said, and Castiel merely raised his brow. Dean rolled his eyes. “Okay, fine, we can take turns.”

Castiel’s head tipped back on a delighted laugh before surprising his husband by sweeping him into a bridal carry. “Carrying each other is what we do, Dean,” Castiel said over loud laughter and wolf whistles. 

As Castiel stumbled up the stairs, Dean tugged at Cas’ hair, angling his head for a sweet kiss. Castiel set him down on the top step and accepted the soft press of lips. Cameras flashed around them, but all Cas could see was the green of Dean’s eyes, and he stared at Castiel like he was his whole damn world. It gave Cas a giddy feeling to know that he was.

“We’re married, sunshine,” Dean stated the obvious, and Castiel laughed again.

"Yes we are, baby," Castiel said, fingers diving into Dean’s hair and pulling him in for another lingering kiss as everyone continued to cheer around them, even those they couldn't see.

  
  


The End

  
  
  



End file.
